Aether
by plumbloom
Summary: When Father opens Hell's Gate in an attempt to turn Ishbal into a Philosopher's Stone, sub-human 'contractors' are brought into being; identified by the military as criminals, and subjected to research. A/U, post-series. Ed/Al, Ed/Winry, other pairings.
1. Capture

_Aether, the material which fills the region of the universe above the terrestrial sphere, is of the character that it is "__subtler than light.__"_

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* * *

From what we cannot hold the stars are made. – _W.S.M.

* * *

_When Father opens Hell's Gate in an attempt to turn Ishbal into a Philosopher's Stone, the country is consumed, and gives way to the emergence of the Gate into the world. Though the area has since been contained, the event led to the spontaneous appearance of contractors and allowed for the creation of Dolls. Contractors are identified by law as criminals, and no effort is spared in attempting to capture, imprison and study every one. _

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* * *

_

The night was a cold one in early winter. Flurries drifted down, were illuminated briefly in the glow from the streetlamps, and then mixed with the trampled slush in the street. In a disused alley in Central, the hush of dusk was broken by the sound of loud, drunken voices:

"Evening, girls. Where you headed? Need a lift?"

"Want someplace to spend the night?"

"My door is always open, ladies." This accompanied by a rude gesture and scattered cackles. One demurred, not entirely serious:

"What's the matter with you? The little ones are just kids."

"They're _cute_ kids…" the first leered in mock-defense.

"I wouldn't mind a taste of the bigger one, either."

"Mmm. What's your name, sweetheart?"

Having been forced to slow down, the tallest of the three gathered her arms protectively about the two shorter ones, but said nothing in response, gazing at the ground. All wore long coats with the hoods up, partially obscuring their faces, but the long silver hair of the tallest glinted where it gathered to frame each side of her face inside of the hood. A couple of moments passed, and finally one of the children lifted her head and spat, "Leave us alone."

This seemed to provoke the lead tough, his mouth screwing into a nasty snarl. "Hey, bitch! We're talking to you!"

He came closer, shooting out a grimy hand to catch hold of her cape, and suddenly the alley exploded with light.

* * *

The knock on the door came after eleven. The Fullmetal brothers were sprawled on separate couches, working over their notes from the day. Al half-rose to answer it, but Ed gestured for him to sit and went over on his own. As he opened the door, Lieutenant Maria Ross pulled herself together into a neat salute.

"You asked to be informed if there were contractor sightings of any kind."

Ed tensed, and Al sat up, reaching for a pencil. "When? Where?"

"A disturbance occurred in one of the northwestern boroughs earlier this evening. A group of young men out for a night on the town were severely injured, and the surrounding area destroyed. The party who inflicted the damage fled."

"The witnesses observed no transmutation reactions of any kind?"

"Nothing. The reports confirmed it. It's a contractor."

Ed swore in excitement. "Who's going after him?"

"The Colonel is putting a team together. He appears to have a nest in the borough." Ross hesitated for a moment. "I presume you'll want to be involved."

Startled, Al looked up from his diagrams. "Nii-san…"

"Tell the Colonel I'm on my way."

Ross saluted briefly and left, and Ed slammed the door, gritting his teeth, and started to get dressed.

"Nii-san, you can't be serious about getting involved in this." Al's tone was pleading. "If he's a contractor and he's still free, it's too dangerous. You heard Lieutenant Ross – there are probably more of them. We should let the Colonel handle it, as he ordered. Nii-san!" His voice rose in volume as he realized how little heed Ed was giving to his words, and finally Ed paused before shrugging his cape on. "It's too soon. Going after them won't bring her back."

Only a slight grimace indicated that Ed had been listening to his brother's entreaties. When he saw that Ed still intended to leave, Al closed the notebook he had been working on and stood up as well.

"If you won't listen, I'm going with you."

The Colonel's office was a hive of noise and motion, and barely anyone noticed as they squeezed their way inside. Al found Hawkeye and Kirihara poring over a series of transcribed reports, and joined them. Hawkeye looked up and nodded briefly in greeting. "Sir. Is your brother here as well?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Al craned his neck over Kirhara's shoulder, but it was difficult to locate his shorter sibling in the confusion. "I couldn't convince him to stay out of it."

"I doubt the colonel will allow him to have anything to do with it," Kirihara said, not lifting her eyes from the data. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes is still on ordered leave. You two are fortunate that you were not suspended."

"I know." Al hesitated before asking, "Is there anything at all you can tell me?"

Hawkeye shrugged. "You're welcome to take a look for yourself, but the Colonel will absolutely not permit accompaniment to the site of the incident. He's already selected a team based on what was observed."

"How many were there?" Al skimmed over the reports. Rogue contractors rarely traveled alone or in large groups – both configurations increased the probability of capture.

"At least three, and they had a Doll with them, which will make them difficult to track. But two were children." Al's eyebrows rose at this bit of information. "They'll make valuable research subjects, if we're able to take them alive. It's disturbing, however…" Kirihara shook her head. "Rogue contractors in Central for the second time this year. The military's presence isn't as intimidating to them as we'd like to think. I had my misgivings, but it seems the Colonel's initiative is a timely one."

Al glanced at her, wondering what she meant, but was interrupted by Hawkeye.

"This time, we must ensure that no lives are lost." Hawkeye's brow furrowed. "We will take every precaution necessary."

Al shivered at the thought. "They're not the ones who…?"

"Doubtful. The pattern of destruction indicates abilities related to some kind of large gun, and another type of matter manipulation – fire, possibly. No traces of explosive power." The three of them fell silent for a moment in remembrance, but were soon interrupted by the Colonel himself.

"We're heading out. Yo, Alphonse." Mustang seemed undisturbed by the short alchemist who followed him, attempting to bully him into letting him join them, and cursing colorfully at the top of his lungs. "Will you do me a favor and restrain your brother?"

Al colored and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "I'll do my best. Nii-san," he raised his voice in order to be heard. "We can't go along with them."

"Who says we can't? In case you haven't noticed, Colonel, it's _wet_ outside! You'll be useless! You need me along!"

"I have selected my own reinforcements for the time being," the Colonel ground out. "We'll keep you informed, of course."

"Who?" Ed demanded to know.

"The Crimson and Strong Arm Alchemists will be in accompaniment, along with a team of enlisted soldiers." Mustang slipped on his gloves, and motioned to Hawkeye to follow him. "Good night, Fullmetal brothers."

"Kimblee? Are you _kidding_ me?" Had it not been for the gentle restraining hand Al placed on his older brother's collar, Ed would have followed the Colonel and the others straight to their transport, yelling all the way. However, when he reached back to detach himself, the sight of his younger brother's quietly disapproving face seemed to trip him up. Awkwardly, Al let his arm drop, and Ed cleared his throat.

"Let's go home and finish up our work for the night, so we can be prepared when they come in," the younger brother suggested, seeking, as he usually did, to bridge the tension between them.

Ed seemed to deflate. "We may as well. Something tells me that it's going to be one hell of a long night."

Several hours passed in strained silence at the Elrics' apartment before they had any news.

A knock at the door, followed by: "Officer Falman, reporting!"

"At ease, come in." Al beckoned Falman over to the desk where they had been working. "What can you tell us?"

Falman's face was grim. "The operation is over. The contractors and one Doll were flushed out of the nest where they were hiding. As for the children, we received a report on them from Northern Headquarters a year ago, when they first awakened. Shion and Suou Pavlichenko, now aged twelve."

Al frowned, flipping through a stack of his notes. "Oh, I remember. The 'Twin Guns'?"

"Those are the ones. One of them was slain in the skirmish; we've taken the other and the Doll into custody." Al's face reflected his horror, and Falman inclined his head to demonstrate that he understood. "It was unavoidable."

"Unavoidable, hell!" Edward fumed. "The Colonel should have known better than to take Kimblee along."

Falman let his outburst pass without comment, and continued, "We have yet to confirm the identity of the captured twin."

Now Al was scribbling furiously. He handed a few pages to Ed, who examined them without comment. "And the others?"

"At least one escaped. The last…" Falman hesitated. "…from what I understand, he was extremely difficult to bring down. The Colonel himself had engaged him, but it was difficult to tell who would emerge the victor. Then he suddenly surrendered himself. It was after the twin had been captured, so it's not too difficult to surmise why."

"Still, that's an illogical move, for a contractor." Ed appeared lost deep in thought. "Do we have any information on him?"

"None readily available, but his description has been sent out to the other headquarters. When we hear something, we'll let you know." Falman made a gesture as if to move for the door. "You two may come to examine the twin and Doll, if you like, before they go through processing. The other contractor is in interrogation."

"We'll go now," Ed confirmed, and, gathering a few notes, the brothers set out. It looked as if it was to be a very long night indeed.

"Here they are." Breda looked to Kirihara questioningly, and she nodded. "Go ahead and open it. We're relocating them now."

The Lieutenant obeyed, and when the door of the holding cell swung open and their eyes adjusted to the light, Ed and Al were dismayed by what they saw.

The girl and the Doll were huddled in one corner of the dank cell, and the former started at the sudden light. Up until this point, all of the contractors they had captured and studied had been their age or older. Child contractors were rare, and little was known about them. Al would have had trouble believing that the petite redhead was a dangerous killing machine if the reports hadn't proved otherwise. Now she tensed, curling more tightly into the Doll's arms, as Al came closer.

"Don't worry," he said gently. "Suou, right? We're not going to hurt you. We're only going to move you to some place more comfortable."

She glared back at him with a mixture of fear and defiance. "Why should I believe you?"

Both Ed and Al were startled by the clear display of emotion. Al cast a glance over his shoulder at his brother, who shrugged. "She's young, so maybe the transmutation of the soul hasn't yet occurred."

Al turned back, squatting down so that their faces were at the same height. "We want to help you," he explained. "My brother and I are researchers. We won't harm you, we promise."

"My brother is dead because of your military," Suou ground out bitterly, her wide, childish eyes accusing. "Don't tell me lies!"

Flinching as if he had been slapped, Al fell silent. Ed made as if to intervene, fuming wordlessly at his younger brother's distress, but Kirihara waved her hand to stop him.

"This is pointless. Breda, escort the Doll to the second research laboratory. The Elrics and I will take the girl to her quarters."

Suddenly the child's expression changed from anger to pure fear. "No! Please, no!"

Kirihara paused, taken aback.

Suou only gripped the impassive Doll more tightly, tucking her forehead under its chin. "Please don't make us separate."

Several seconds of silence passed. Both brothers could feel the Lieutenant's impending refusal.

"She's a child," Al argued. "She shouldn't be alone."

"She's dangerous, and the Doll would only make her more so." Kirihara nevertheless hesitated. "What do you think, Fullmetal?"

Ed had remained silent up until that point. He now went and knelt beside his brother, examining the girl and the Doll more closely. Under the scrutiny of his gaze, Suou closed her eyes tightly, whether in restrained anger or fear he could not tell.

"Doll. What is your name?"

There was the standard delay. The Doll finally opened its mouth to speak, but the girl said first, "She's Yin."

"Her medium?"

Now the girl seemed reticent, but the Doll, at length, answered. "Water."

"Yin." Ed seemed thoughtful. "Do you want to go with her?"

Even Breda coughed to hide a grin while Kirihara openly scoffed at the shorter alchemist. "There's no point in asking a Doll a thing like that."

"Dolls are still human, you know," Al reminded her mildly.

"Your definition is pretty – "

"Yes."

" – lax," Kirihara finished, and then gaped.

Ed stood up, stretching his arms. "Will you clear it, Lieutenant, or shall I?"

"Impossible…" Kirihara said, staring at the odd pair. She shook her head. "I'll clear it. But you'd better figure out what is up with these ones, and be sure to keep us updated. The Colonel wants to keep abreast of these things."

Already Al had scribbled a full page of notes in the journal he kept in his coat. He paused to offer a hand helping Suou to her feet, which she declined.

After they had relocated Suou and Yin to their new lodgings upstairs in the research laboratory, they were informed by way of Kirihara that the Colonel wanted them to return to their quarters. Expecting to be reprimanded for the special privilege they had recommended for Suou, Ed groaned.

"It's too late – too early, whatever – for this nonsense. If he expects us to work, we have to get some sleep. He can scream at us in the morning."

Al remained silent, but he, too, was tired. In the past month, neither of them had slept well, and it was beginning to wear on their nerves. Whereas Ed became more irritated, his temper shorter as time went by, frustrated by his own helplessness, Al found himself withdrawing, become more and more exhausted, emotionally and physically. He was by nature the more open, reasonable, and gentle of the two, but recent events had threatened their toll on him.

When they reached their quarters, they found Mustang waiting for them, idly flipping through some of the work they'd left sprawled out on the desk. Ed strode over and snatched the pages from him, grumbling under his breath about violation of his privacy. Al, meanwhile, noticed the figure sitting on the couch opposite of the colonel.

"Sir?"

The Colonel glanced up from his minor quarrel with the elder brother. "Ah, yes. Edward, Alphonse. You have a visitor."

"A visitor?" Ed turned, scowling.

"This is the other contractor we captured earlier tonight."

The man was a good head taller than Mustang, Al noted, even sitting down. Black hair, fair-skinned, dark blue or black – difficult to tell – eyes. Medium build. His hands were cuffed behind him, and his shirt had been cut away to reveal a shoddy dressing on his right shoulder. He bowed politely in spite of his restraints to both Ed and Al. "Li Shengshun. A pleasure."

Ed's scowl did not waver, but Al bowed in response and introduced himself anyway.

"Obviously his name is fake," Mustang said coolly, speaking about the man as if he was not present. "We don't have any available information on him yet, and he won't say a word about the children or Doll he had with him. When I mentioned that the girl and Doll had been entrusted to your care, he requested to see you."

Thoughtfully Al studied the contractor's face, which seemed knit up in genuine worry. He was well aware that contractors could fake emotion if need be, but something seemed different about this one. Perhaps it was only his imagination, in connection to the outburst of the girl, and the expressed desire (heretofore unimaginable) of the Doll to remain with her. In any case, Al felt obliged to talk with him. He took a seat next to Mustang and asked, "What is it you wanted to see us about?"

"This is ridiculous!" Ed burst out. "Why can't it wait until morning?"

"I apologize for the inconvenience," the contractor – Li – said, and Al noted that his tone was indeed regretful. "I just wanted to ensure their safety."

"Colonel Mustang was perfectly capable in that regard." Ed waved one gloved hand dismissively. "Now, if there's nothing else…"

"Please, if you'll allow me to explain." Li tried to meet the gaze of the elder Elric, but Ed refused to look at him, instead scowling at the ceiling. "They were entrusted into my care."

Ed scoffed. "For what price? Unless you're willing to give your employer up, that sort of information is useless."

"I received no recompense. I cared for them because their parents did not wish to see them in prison, subjected to experiments." Though Li's tone was even, Al winced at his words, and even Ed looked momentarily uncomfortable. Then he recovered and shook his head in disbelief.

"You had nothing to gain by sheltering them. And because you chose to fight instead of surrendering yourselves, one of them is now dead."

Mustang cleared his throat, and Li bowed his head and closed his eyes, briefly.

"I did not know."

"We're very sorry for your loss," Al said, after a moment of silence. "I'm sure everything possible was done to prevent – "

"I refuse to acknowledge the crocodile tears of a soulless being." Ed rose and saluted the Colonel shortly, then headed for the bedroom. "I'll deal with him tomorrow."

Shocked, Al watched the door close behind his brother. He knew that Ed was disturbed by the fact that the male Twin Gun had been killed, and he himself knew, through his research, that contractors were not completely without souls. The man sitting in front of them was expressing grief, and whether genuine or partially feigned, Al could not help but respond in empathy towards him. Ed, it seemed, felt no such corresponding obligation. He had trouble wrapping his mind around the seeming inhumanity of his elder brother, and it shook him.

"It's all right," said the contractor, as if reading his mind. "I didn't expect an apology." He gave a wan smile. "I'm just glad Suou and Yin are safe."

Before Al could formulate a reply, Mustang rose. "I'll have to get him down to processing before Kimblee goes on duty," he said. When he saw Al's face, he shook his head. "I don't like it any more than you do, but he didn't do anything illegal tonight. I just want to avoid any unnecessary conflict."

"Colonel, why not let him stay here?" Al felt the words spill out of him. "It's only a few hours until morning. I'll handle his transfer personally."

Contrary to the negative reaction he expected, Mustang seemed thoughtful. "We would have to ensure your and Ed's safety, of course. But I trust him in your hands more than I do in Kimblee's, particularly after tonight."

Al nodded. "It's simple enough." To Li, he asked, "What is your remuneration?"

Without hesitation, Li replied, "I don't have one."

Mustang and Al exchanged an alarmed glance before the latter continued, "But that's not possible…it completely disregards the law of equivalent exchange…"

"Is it really so far-fetched? You and your brother, the renown Fullmetal Alchemists, can transmute without arrays." Li shifted a little, the first indication Al had seen that the restraints were irritating his wounded shoulder. "I can show you, if you like."

Another glance between Mustang and Al. Li hunched over and looked up at the both of them. "I have surrendered. I have nothing to gain by betraying your trust."

Nevertheless, Mustang slipped on his gloves while he indicated for Al to transmute the contractor out of his handcuffs. Li obediently rose and turned as Al gestured to him, and when his hands were free, slowly brought them around in front of him, rubbing at his wrists. Mustang appeared relaxed, but Al noted the tense muscles in his lower body, ready to spring if the contractor made a false move.

"This won't affect anything directly, but don't touch me while I'm working," Li warned Al, and the young man nodded and took a step back.

Taking a breath, Li lifted his hands. His eyes glowed red, and briefly sparks seemed to dance around his palms. Then his eyes returned to normal, and he relaxed, offering both wrists back to Al, who cuffed them once again, this time in front of him, so that he could rest his shoulder. Mustang nodded his approval.

Several minutes passed. Al took more hurried notes, attempting to synthesize them with the information from earlier in the night. Li, meanwhile, was leaning back against the couch, but kept his eyes open, just in case either of them might suspect his remuneration was sleeping.

After five minutes, Mustang slipped off his gloves and shrugged. "I guess he's telling the truth."

"Amazing," Al marveled, not yet looking up from his notes. "What do you think, Colonel?"

"I think I'm taking him down to processing," Mustang replied. "If he has no remuneration, we can't possibly guarantee your safety."

Not ready to accept defeat, Al ventured, "Nii-san and I have been working on the array which inhibits a contractor's access to his ability, remember? We could try that. If," with a slightly embarrassed nod in Li's direction, "you're willing, of course."

Mustang's sour face seemed to disapprove of Al's asking the contractor's permission, but Li nodded back, even offering him the ghost of a smile. "Sounds better than my other option."

"Alright." Al gathered his notes, then went to Li's side. "Stand up and face away from me." When the contractor complied, he lifted the hem of his shirt with one hand and probed the contractor's back gently with the other, noting various scars and burns as he did so. It seemed as if Li had been involved in combat before he had become a contractor. Mustang stood behind him, watching with frank curiosity.

Finally Al found the spot, midway down the spine. Setting his notes aside, he took up a pen and etched the array carefully, stopping from time to time to refer to the diagrams. He finished by sealing it so that the ink would not fade, and stepped back.

"I'll activate it now," he told Li, who nodded. "When I ask you to, try to access your ability."

With his fore and middle fingers Al touched the array, which glowed briefly red. Li stiffened. "Pain?" Al asked, with concern.

"No, just felt strange."

Al stepped back. "Try now."

Li turned to face them as he did so. Briefly his eyes seemed to glow, but this time he went rigid in the midst of it, his mouth dropping open slightly. Shuddering with what seemed to be pain, his knees gave out just as Al came to his side and gripped his good shoulder to support him, lowering him to the couch.

"Are you alright? Did it hurt? I'm sorry…we haven't tested it very well," Al kept his hand on the contractor's shoulder, feeling the tension in his body slowly relax.

Gradually Li opened his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked at him. "I'm fine. It did hurt, but it looks as if it worked as well."

Mustang seemed equally pleased and astonished. "Alphonse, this is great work."

But Al had seen the look in Li's eyes as he sunk from the pain; his former mild manner given way to an expression of the bitterest contempt and helpless rage, his eyes gone flat and blank as if they were painted on. Shaking himself inwardly, Al reminded himself that he was tired, and managed a wan smile for the colonel. "Thank you. But I can't take all of the credit; Nii-san and I developed it together."

"It looks like I'll be leaving this one in your capable hands, then." Mustang beckoned Al over as he made his way toward the door. "If I could have a word with you – "

Al nodded, excusing himself with a faint smile from Li and following Mustang to the door. The colonel's face was contorted with a strange excitement, and he gripped Al's shoulder in a way that was not exactly friendly.

"See that you watch over him well," Mustang said, with a smile which bordered on feral. "This is a valuable one – exactly what I've been looking for."

Uncertain of how to respond, Al inclined his head in assent.

"Good night."

After the colonel had gone, a stiff silence held for a few moments in the room. Finally Al began to tidy up. "Can I get you anything? Drink or food?"

"I'm fine for the moment, thank you." Li seemed curious about what Al was doing, his previous (imagined?) hostility gone. The young alchemist made quick work of organizing their strewn papers and books into a few neat piles, then stretched. Noticing Li's eyes on him, he colored a bit.

"I'll go get some blankets and pillows, and we can each take a couch," Al suggested.

"That's fine. I'm exhausted." Li stretched himself out on the couch he was sitting on.

"You must be." Al went to the linen closet and pulled out bedclothes. "How's your wound? I could take a look at it – " he trailed off as he approached the couches with his arms full, noting that Li had already fallen into a light sleep. As gently as possible, he covered the contractor with a blanket and gave him a pillow, then arranged the other couch into a pallet for himself. Shutting the lights, he said softly, "Good night."

In spite of himself, he fell asleep quickly, dreaming of nothing.


	2. Imprisonment

_Sand. Sand. Dying of thirst. Metal absorbs enough heat to peel flesh when touched. Underneath the ground, in the coolness, scorpions lurk. Poisonous scarabs, too. Mistaking the runoff from a military vehicle for water. Thirsty enough to drink blood…and there was plenty of it around…_

"Hei!" The scream jolted him out of his slumber, dying away at the edges of his consciousness as he sat up abruptly. The pain in his shoulder caused him to lose his breath for a second and then he remembered.

Shion dead. Yin and Suou imprisoned. Mao lost.

Yin's delicate features and shy half-smile rose before his eyes, and the pain he felt intensified. His heart hammered around in his chest. If harm had come to her…his brain became dizzy with the terrifying possibility. _I would know. I would know._ He was supposed to have gone to the prison with her. He was supposed to have controlled the twins.

The contractor took a shallow breath. He'd slept more deeply than he had intended, and dreamt, too, though all that remained of his nightmares now was the lingering scream and the sense of deep terror on Yin's behalf. Glancing over at the other couch, he confirmed that the younger alchemist was already awake – the couch was empty, the blankets neatly folded at one end. Judging by the sun, which was threatening its way around the curtains, it was around seven. Lying back down in an effort to relax, Hei found his thoughts drifting. His body was sore because of the awkward position he'd been forced to sleep in with his hands cuffed, and the burn from the previous night throbbed.

The sound of raised voices from the bedroom caught his attention. He sat up again, with some difficulty, and tried to listen, but the closed door muffled the sound. Hei sat and listened anyway until the door finally flew open.

"Nii-san, quiet, you'll wake – " Al trailed off mid-whisper. "Oh. Good morning."

Ed gestured at him. "Get up. I'm taking you to processing."

"Please wait," Al protested, evidently picking up where they had left in their argument of a few moments before. "At least have breakfast before you go."

"I'd like that," Hei ventured. "I don't imagine the prison fare is very good."

Simultaneously the shorter brother told him to shut up while Al said, "Oh, it's fine, we even eat there sometimes instead of cooking…you shouldn't be so rude, Nii-san."

Ed seemed to be struggling between his desire to have Hei out of their quarters (he inferred that was the source of the argument) and his desire for breakfast. While he thought over it, Al made his way to the kitchen. "I'll make crepes," he offered.

Breakfast seemed to have won. Both of the brothers were in pajamas, anyway. Ed padded back into the bedroom while Al made busy-sounding noises in the kitchenette behind Hei. When Ed shut the bedroom door, presumably to get dressed, the younger brother left what he was doing and came over to Hei's side.

"Good morning," he said with a tired but bright smile. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine, thank you."

"I'm sorry about my brother. He isn't much of a morning person."

Hei shook his head, returning Al's smile. "Really, it's fine."

The young man's body relaxed, displaying his relief. Studying his face, Hei thought wonderingly, _They really are still just children…_

It was rare that he was around children of such power who weren't mostly devoid of human emotion. Even Suou, who was remarkably imbalanced for a contractor, had an overall cool edge to her emotional displays. He wondered how she was handling her brother's death. Since there'd been no news of violence in the prison, he guessed that she was stable, at least for the moment.

"How is your shoulder? Can I look at it for you?" Noticing Hei's surprise, Al smiled again. "I'm usually the one who works with the new contractors when they come in to Central. I'm used to the rudiments of treating wounds."

Hei nodded and offered his shoulder willingly. Al clapped his hands and undid the handcuffs, making it easier for him to examine the contractor. "What about your brother?"

"Nii-san conducts most of the research." Carefully, Al unwrapped the burn and examined it. It was not serious, but could use a fresh dressing. He fetched some things from the kitchen and then came back, motioning for Hei to take his shirt off. His touch was smooth and practiced; Hei barely felt a twinge, though it felt odd to be tended to with such care by an alchemist. Al's face was screwed up in deep concentration while Hei watched him in silence.

"So I'm a test subject, am I? Or will be soon, at any rate."

The concentrated look on Al's face was momentarily disrupted by a flicker of some emotion (regret? sadness? Hei had occasional trouble with recognition) before smoothing itself out again. "We don't like to think of it that way," he explained. "We're trying to figure all of this out for your sakes, as well. If we understood how contractors operate under the laws of alchemy, then the people wouldn't be so frightened and there would be less social strife."

"_We_ don't like to think of it that way?" Hei repeated. "Do you speak for your brother as well? Or the military at large?"

"I can't possibly speak for the other state alchemists." Al paused, nearly done with his work, to glance toward the bedroom door, but it remained shut. "Things have been difficult for my brother lately. He's not usually like this."

"Hm." Al finished, and Hei shrugged the ripped shirt back on as the bedroom door swung open. Ed's frown became deeper as he saw what his younger brother had been doing, but he made no comment. Instead, he returned to the desk where they had been working the previous night, sat down, and began lacing up his boots. Hei caught the gleam of metal through the gaping tongue. Automail. So this shorter one, the older brother, was the supposed genius.

"Breakfast will be ready in a minute," Al called from the kitchenette. Hei took this as the signal to rise. To his credit, Ed only stiffened a little when Hei sat down opposite of him, but he went on lacing his boots nonetheless. It seemed a little sleep had made him more tractable.

Deciding to try his luck, Hei addressed the alchemist. "Would it be alright if I gave your brother a hand in the kitchen?"

For a good half minute there was no reply, and finally Ed grunted his assent. Hei rose again, careful to move slowly, and made his way to the kitchenette. As he walked, he took the opportunity to glance around the quarters more carefully.

The main room consisted of the two couches, the large desk (which also seemed to serve as a table), a smaller coffee table and a few rugs. The only ostentatious thing about the living quarters were the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, which spanned two walls. They were covered in thick, musty-looking tomes. Partially sectioned off, on the left of the main entrance, was a small kitchenette, and to the back of the room was one door. _Only one bedroom for the two of them_, Hei noted, _and the bathroom must be in there as well._ There were two pairs of small windows on opposite sides of the main room, which looked out, respectively, onto the courtyard and the street. It was somewhat bare, but a decent home, for military quarters.

In the kitchenette, Hei found Alphonse juggling three things at once – the crepes, a frying pan with eggs, and a whistling teakettle – and offered to relieve him. The younger brother accepted his help gratefully. The kitchen was something of a mess (_understandable_, Hei thought, _for two children living alone_), but seemed well-stocked. While he finished the eggs, Al poured tea and transferred the crepes to three plates. Together they carried out the food, Hei recognizing with something akin to regret that he would have to curb his usual appetite.

They ate in silence for a few minutes aside from Ed's initial praise for his brother's cooking. Food also seemed to put the older alchemist in a better mood, though Hei noted that the crepes were gooey, and the eggs under-seasoned. The tea tasted as if it had steeped for a while too long, as well. He couldn't afford to be picky on a completely empty stomach, however. After some time had passed, Hei ventured another question directed at Ed: "So what will happen when you take me for processing?"

Not bothering to look up from the book he was skimming (in spite of Al's protest of "Nii-san, please don't read at the table") Ed shrugged. "You'll find out when you get there."

"I'm not used to being a prisoner."

Both brothers glanced up at this. "It really isn't like that," Al protested. "Every contractor gets their own quarters, not too different from these. We want to work with you. While this law is in place – "

"Al." The older brother cut him off. Addressing Hei, he replied, "You'll get used to it. If you didn't want to be here, you shouldn't have been skulking around in Central in the first place."

Now it was Hei's turn to shrug. "That's true enough. But I couldn't very well entrust the children to anyone else. I could hardly have imagined that one of them would be killed in order for me to be here." He paused. "I didn't think the military was detaining prisoners of war any longer."

Al was glaring at his brother over the empty plates. "Nii-san."

Ed sighed, and seemed to struggle with himself. Eyes glued back on his book, he said in a low voice, "I apologize for your loss. And…for last night. I was tired. You're not a prisoner, and there's no…war. We just can't have you wandering around the city; it makes the people nervous."

"I understand," Hei acknowledged. "I know it must be difficult, with the events of last month still fresh in everyone's minds."

The alchemist's head shot up. "What do you know about what happened last month?"

Hei looked surprised. "Every information net has leaks," he said, by way of explanation. "I heard that there were contractor-related murders somehow connected to the military. Your brother mentioned that the last month has been difficult for you, so I assumed..."

"You know nothing," Ed shot back. His left hand clenched and began to tremble slightly.

Chastised, Hei fell silent. "I'm sorry." A glance in the younger brother's direction confirmed the preliminary report he had been given; they had been personally connected to the murders. It looked as if both of them were suffering under the burden, and Hei understood implicitly that they had not been able to bring themselves to talk about it honestly. Strange, considering how close they seemed. But then, they were children, he reminded himself; he'd been able to witness that with his own eyes.

Abruptly Ed rose. "Let's go. I want to get this over with."

Hei had no choice but to comply.

Once in processing, however, things did not go smoothly. Hei watched impassively as the young alchemist raged at the female officer in charge of booking.

"A transfer to Western Headquarters? On whose authority?"

The officer was clearly intimidated, but she struggled not to show it. "It's mainly a problem of overcrowding, sir. State regulations indicate that we must keep a certain ratio of contractors to other prisoners, and with the one we brought in last night…"

Ed swore under his breath, though audibly enough for both Hei and the officer to catch. The latter colored furiously, while Hei allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his lips. When Ed whirled to glare at him, though, he quickly replaced the smile with a blank expression, though inwardly he was just as alarmed at the suggestion as Edward had been. This wasn't a contingency he'd planned for.

Time passed, and Hei observed that the young man appeared to be thinking hard. From the grimace he pulled, it was not a particularly pleasant thought, but since he didn't curse any further, it seemed to be something more palatable than the option of Hei's transfer.

Turning back to the officer, Ed explained, "This is an important research subject. I'd rather not lose him. Are there any other options?"

"Well…" She did not seem particularly happy to discuss the subject with him. "Some of the other alchemists have kept subjects in their personal quarters, though you would have to obtain special permission via Colonel Mustang – "

Ed cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I know damn well about that option." The line of his mouth had hardened. "Are there any other ways?"

The officer's gaze flicked from Ed to Hei, whose hands had been re-cuffed in front of him, and she lowered her voice considerably. "There is one other way. Depending on the sort of research you're looking to carry out, there's always room in cold storage…"

Though Hei heard, understood, and did not flinch, Ed recoiled as if he'd been bitten. Turning on his heel, he announced, "We're leaving."

Hei followed him as the officer called, "Sir! Please! You have to clear this!"

The young man ignored her. As they boarded the elevator, Hei said quietly, "Thank you."

Ed's face looked annoyed, as if the gratitude was a burden. "Don't thank me. I need you alive, and I don't want those idiots out at Western Headquarters stealing more of my research material." He checked his watch and sighed. "I have to report to work soon. I'm going to drop you off back at the apartment. Al is working from there today, I think."

"You trust me alone with your younger brother?"

"Don't make me laugh. Actually," Ed seized Hei's arm, spun him around, and yanked up the back of his shirt, examining Al's work and 'hmph'ing in satisfaction at what he saw. "He's better at hand-to-hand combat than I am, so without your ability, he'd probably be the better matched of the two of us. That is, if you were foolish enough to try something like that, and I doubt you are, given that we have your companions in our custody."

When Hei turned back around, he was nearly nose to nose – considering Ed's height, it was closer to nose to hairline – with the alchemist, whose golden eyes were glaring at him fiercely. He smiled mildly and was gratified to see Ed's eyebrow twitch in frustration. "I wasn't planning on anything."

"Good." They had reached the brothers' quarters sooner than Hei expected. He realized that Ed had taken him to and from the prison a different way each time, and thinking back over it he was unsure he could find it unaided. The kid was smarter than he seemed.

To say that Al was surprised at his return was an understatement. This was not helped by the fact that Ed said simply, by way of explanation, "He's staying here. I have to get to work," and left, leaving Al gaping at his brother's departure. When he turned to Hei for an explanation, the contractor smiled a little and shrugged.

"You couldn't get rid of me, it seems."

Al poured some more tea for them while Hei explained.

"I see. I guess it's a good thing that I told Nii-san about your lack of remuneration, or he might have let you go." Noticing the look on Hei's face, he continued, "Not that it feels very good to have your conditions of life determined by your value as research material, I'm sure." He clapped, reached over, and gently touched the handcuffs around Hei's wrists. They fell away, and the contractor nodded his thanks and picked up his cup of tea. Al's face remained thoughtful. "In a way, I know what that feels like."

_Interesting_. Hei let the comment pass, but made a mental note of it. "The officer mentioned that other alchemists kept contractors in their quarters." Noting Al's pronounced wince, Hei changed tactics. "Are there many other researchers here?"

Al gave him a strange look. "For someone who didn't want any part of this, you sure are curious."

Hei smiled again and did not reply, figuring it best not to push his luck. The boy was not suspicious – not yet – perhaps unlike his older brother, but it was wise not to say anything else to rouse his suspicions.

As they sipped their tea, Hei studied Al without seeming to. He was a good head taller than his younger brother, and both his hair and his eyes were a few shades darker. In contrast to Ed's long braid, Al wore his hair short and tousled, and was a little on the scrawny side, although the cut of his jaw was less pronounced than his brother's.

Perhaps most startling was the difference in expression – Ed's face was solemn, bordering on sullen, closed-off, his eyes sharp and penetrating; Al's disposition, on the other hand, was open and engaging, though the perceptive gleam in his eyes mirrored that (if less aggressive) of his brother.

Some time passed before Al answered anyway, as Hei had suspected he might. With the tension between him and his older brother, the young man seemed starved for some friendly company.

"Most of the State Alchemists here participate in contractor research from one angle or another. We're learning a lot about alchemy that wasn't possible before. Even if they don't work with contractors directly, there are alchemists who work on Gate-related studies, and those who work with Dolls." Al swallowed another mouthful of tea, and then sighed. "All right. Speaking of work, I've got to get to mine." As he rose, instinctively Hei stood as well. "Let's get you settled in first."

Al guided Hei to the bedroom, where he picked out a shirt and pair of pants and, a little unsure, transmuted them so that they would fit. Hei watched with interest. "The fabric might be a thin," Al explained, "but they'll do for the time being. And they're better than the standard issue down at the lab. Would you like to shower before you change?"

"That would be great."

"The bathroom is through that door, to the right. Just let me check your array…" Unlike Ed, Al waited for Hei to turn and lift the hem of his shirt before examining his back. "Looks good. If you need anything, I'll be in the living room." With a small smile Al left, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Momentarily, Hei marveled that he had been left alone in the bedroom. He noticed, however, small arrays etched into the windowsill and into various drawers around the room. Probably anything valuable or interesting was kept locked up. Before going to the bathroom, Hei took stock of the bedroom. As he'd thought, there was only one double bed. The walls of the bedroom were covered with bookshelves. Here, too, amidst the books, were the only decorative objects Hei had yet seen in the apartment – several framed photographs and an assortment of curious-looking artifacts. He bent to examine a photograph which had been turned facedown in its place, tilting it up to catch the light filtering in from the window.

It was a group photo. Hei identified Ed and the Colonel. There was, in addition, a bearded man with glasses, a young woman with very light blond hair, a little girl of about three or four, and several pretty, middle-aged women in military dress. From the way the bearded man had his arm positioned about one of the woman's shoulders, and hoisted the small girl on his hip, it seemed that trio comprised a family unit. Standing behind all of them was a massive figure in armor. A confusing picture. Hei replaced it and decided not to snoop further.

The bathroom was a bit on the small side, but equipped with a tub, which Hei made use of – he didn't want to risk wetting his burn with a shower. Before he got in, he examined the array Al had drawn on him using the mirror above the sink. Its complex design was totally alien to him. When he recalled the excruciating pain it had caused, his jaw tightened reflexively.

It was the first decent bath he'd had in awhile, and he allowed himself to indulge a bit, lying in the hot water. He'd left both the bedroom and bathroom doors unlocked, in case it struck Al to check on him. Lying there, he forcefully cleared his mind of preoccupations and tried to relax.

Some time passed. Hei was jerked out of a heat-induced reverie by a tapping at the small frosted window above the bathtub. Startled, he realized the water had gone cold and swiftly rose, pulled the plug, grabbed a towel and peered at the window.

It was sealed with alchemy, so he couldn't open it, and the view was glazed over because of the frosted glass, but Hei could just make out the shape of a black cat. "Mao," he said softly.

There was a knocking on the bathroom door. "Li? Are you alright? I thought I heard something."

Hurriedly Li gestured for Mao to move, rubbing himself dry quickly in the meantime. He wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door to reveal a concerned-looking Al. "Ah, sorry about that. I think I must have dozed off in the tub, and then there was an animal on the windowsill…"

Al had politely averted his gaze, but seemed interested nonetheless, his cheeks flushing with nervous excitement. "An animal? Really?"

"Yes – a cat, I think."

"Is it still there? Maybe it's cold and wants to get in."

"I don't think so." Al seemed to have an affinity for animals. "Maybe he'll come around the other side of the building. I'll get dressed, and we could check," Hei suggested.

The young alchemist rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture of embarrassment. "I should probably be concentrating on my work, actually."

"No problem. I can look for you."

Though Al said nothing, and left Hei alone to get dressed, the expression on his face indicated that he would like it if Hei did.

Fully dressed, Hei rubbed his hair as dry as possible with a towel, letting it hang loose for the moment. He studied his face in the mirror and decided not to shave until he was able to procure his own razor. Tidying the bathroom, he left, checking the window in the bedroom for any sign of Mao. Nothing.

In the living room, Al seemed absorbed in his work, but Hei could feel his distracted gaze flicker over to him a couple of times as he checked both windows. He turned to Al to ask if he could open the one facing the courtyard, but before he could speak Al had anticipated his question and was nodding his assent.

"You really like animals, don't you?"

Al cleared his throat, toying with the edge of the document he was working on. "Yes."

"Why don't you keep a pet?" Hei opened the window, letting a burst of cold air rush in.

A pause. "Nii-san prefers that I didn't." Pretense at work abandoned, Al wandered over to the window. Hei was sitting on the sill, enjoying the breeze. "Isn't it cold? Your hair is wet."

"It's fine." Hei spotted a black shape moving along the ground below. "Look! There it is."

Al nearly yipped with delight. "Psst! Here, kitty! Up here!" Mao paused and looked up. Even from this height, Hei could see his back arch in annoyance. The contractor smiled and joined in – just to rub Mao the wrong way – and they both hollered at the black cat until their throats were hoarse, but he refused to budge.

"Maybe if you went and got some food," Hei suggested to Al, sensing what Mao was waiting for.

"Oh, of course." Al disappeared into the kitchenette, and in a flash Mao had scaled the wall by means of a withered ivy vine and was sitting next to Hei, lashing his tail in anger.

"Quit fucking around. Hei, what's going on?"

"Can't tell you everything right now. Why don't you get in here for awhile and we'll see if we can talk? The kid likes animals."

"I can see – " Mao cut himself off as Al returned. Hei scooped him up by the nape of his neck and held him out to an astonished Al.

"Got him."

"Wow…" Al pushed his books aside and set the saucer of tuna fish he'd whipped together down on the table. "He's a big one. I don't see a collar, so maybe he's hungry?"

Hei shrugged, dumping Mao unceremoniously next to the tuna. The latter raised his hackles a fraction of an inch and then contentedly dug into the fish. Al sat down, propping his chin in the palm of his hand and watching with obvious delight.

"Look at his silver earring," Al observed with obvious delight. "I wonder who thought to pierce the ear of a cat? His coat's pretty thick for a stray. You can definitely tell from his crooked tail, though. This is the first time a stray's been in our place in months," he confessed to Hei. "Nii-san usually stops me from bringing them home, but this one came right to us, so I don't think he can be angry with me for that."

"I don't think so either." Hei shut the window and ran a roughed hand over Mao's back, at which the contractor arched his back and purred a little in spite of himself. _That's it. Make yourself a little cuter, you look like you spent the night in the gutter._ "He could probably use a bath, and maybe a flea collar, but if he's an indoor and outdoor cat, maybe he could be a good pet for you and your brother," Hei ventured. Mao's eyes widened almost comically at the word 'bath', but Alphonse, gently scratching him behind the ears, didn't seem to notice.

"Hmm. Well, I suppose we'll see when Nii-san gets home. For now, though," Al picked up Mao with an expression of regret and put him on the floor, along with the half-empty saucer, "I really should get back to my work."

"Sure." Hei hesitated. "Would it be alright if I borrowed some paper and something to write with?"

Al nodded, pushing a small wooden box toward him. "Help yourself."

Once the alchemist had settled back into his work (though it must be admitted that the margins of his diagrams were filled with sketches of cats) Hei sat down on one of the couches and drafted what appeared to be a letter to Suou, informing her of his current situation. When he had finished, however, and retired to the floor to do some light stretching, Al noticed that the cat had perched itself on the coffee table and was staring very intently at the sheet of paper.

"What a strange cat."

Startled, Mao pretended to have been fascinated by the pen lying on top of the letter, and batted it off the table, then began a half-hearted chase, darting under the couch where it had rolled. The feint had the desired effect: Al threw back his head and laughed, then returned to his work.

On a patch of open floor behind one of the couches, Hei rested on his back after a particularly painful stretch that had irritated his shoulder. Mao squeezed his way out from underneath the couch and gave himself a good shake. Stalking over to Hei, he jumped and landed on his chest. One paw grazed the burn and Hei gritted his teeth.

"Sorry. What's wrong with these guys, don't they know how to clean under a couch?"

Hei raised his eyebrows noncommittally.

"OK, OK." Mao's purplish cat-eyes seemed reflective, somehow. Hei could see himself in them. "I can't believe you want to follow through with this, but I guess I'll stick around. Just make sure that neither of us go the way of Shion."

Papers rustled, and Hei sat up, picking up Mao again by the nape of the neck. When he glanced up, Al was leaning over the couch, watching them. "He likes you a lot. I'm kind of jealous."

"Believe me," Hei said dryly, meeting the cat's unbemused glare with his own, "it's nothing to be jealous about."


	3. Night

Some time passed. Al periodically looked up from his work to see how Li was doing. Part of his pleasure in taking in the cat had been so that the contractor would be a little distracted from his confinement; he wasn't sure how the man would take to being essentially imprisoned, particularly in the company of one who was free.

Li did busy himself for some time with their new acquisition. However, after constructing a makeshift litter box and setting out food and water dishes for it, he'd resumed stretching and proceeded to ignore the cat, which likewise was ignoring not only Li, but both of them. First it had roamed around the entire quarters for a good half an hour, and now appeared to be asleep in a patch of sunshine on the floor. Li, too, had finished his stretching and was lying on the couch, a neutral expression on his face.

Abruptly, Al turned over the back of his chair and began to apologize. "I guess you probably feel pretty cooped up."

Li sat up a little, leaning on his elbows, an expression of mild surprise on his features. "No, not particularly…"

"Oh." Al seemed taken aback. "I guess I just figured 'prison' would feel…confining."

A pause, and then Li grinned. "I've been on the run for awhile," he replied, shrugging. "This isn't ideal, but it's a hell of a lot better than scraping by at dead-end jobs and hiding in cockroach motels. Besides, I'm willing to gamble that it's better than the actual prison."

"Research lab," corrected Al automatically.

"Right. I wouldn't argue if you gave me something to do, though."

Al shook his head, feeling color rise to his cheeks. "I didn't mean that…I didn't mean that you should – "

"Don't worry about it," Li said, and his tone was so gentle that Al couldn't help relaxing a bit. "All I mean was that I'm a guest, of sorts, here, and I'm not averse to cleaning or cooking or anything. Or," added hesitantly, "helping you with your research, though I'm not sure if that's appropriate."

Casting an absent eye back over the table littered with papers and books, Al thought it over. "Maybe," he said, thinking about his brother. "Nii-san's going to be upset enough when he finds out that I took in a cat."

"Well, in that case, I don't mind making us lunch." The contractor's stomach growled, and he smiled a little in embarrassment. "That is, if it's alright."

Pleased by the suggestion, Al shook his head. "It's fine! It's better, actually…I usually forget to make it for myself. You can make whatever you like; I'm not picky."

The contractor nodded, rising. "It shouldn't take more than a half an hour."

"Take all the time you want," Al insisted.

Li grinned. "You wouldn't notice anyway, right?"

Al smiled back. "Probably not."

When the older man had padded into the kitchenette, Al attempted half-heartedly to return to his work. For weeks now he had been focusing on compiling their research regarding comparative studies in soul transmutation between contractors and Dolls. Essentially, though there were still gaps in the theory, they had found that in both types of beings there was in effect a perversion of the soul; a type of obscure transmutation they did not fully understand yet.

In Dolls, it appeared that the soul was whittled down to its most basic functions; in contractors, somehow filtered and displaced. Some of Ed's research, conducted while observing contractors access their abilities, indicated that the aspects of the soul which had been filtered had somehow been replaced with a liquid or light form of the philosopher's stone (hence, the red glow in the eyes); which would also account for their ability to manipulate matter without arrays.

The question was, of course, what happened to the rest of their souls.

"Trapped," Ed had asserted, when his younger brother put forth the question, "within the gate. Since the gate has emerged partially into the world, they're able to remain alive. But it's not full life."

_Not full life._ The implications of this research were troubling. If this somehow qualified contractors and Dolls as less than human…

Already, they had seen some of what the consequences could be of the application of this knowledge, to say nothing of the legal consequences. Miraculous, horrifying possibilities. Al took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair.

"Would you like to eat now?"

Jarred out of his thoughts, Al noticed the delicious odor wafting in from the kitchen, and returned Li's querying face with a smile. "Sure. I'll clear the table off."

The acquisition of Li, the child contractor and their Doll could prove a complicating factor to their theory. All three of them seemed to display startlingly high levels of human emotion. Moreover, there was the lack of Li's remuneration, a fact which directly seemed to contradict the theory that a contractor's ability was enabled through the replacement of facets of his soul with red matter; if Li didn't have to abide by the rules of equivalent exchange through remuneration, then that meant…

He had no soul. Like a Homunculus.

Technically, Al reminded himself as he cleared the table, that wasn't correct, either. Homunculi weren't without souls, per se. Certainly not without a consciousness. But in their case, consciousness was constructed out of thousands of shards of human souls, mutilated beyond the possibility of being human. As Li came back in and began to set the table, Al remonstrated with himself for asking the silent question:

_Human?_

"You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette, would you?" Li's inquiry broke into his thoughts, and Al shook his head ruefully.

"Sorry, I don't. Actually – " Al went into the bedroom and rummaged around in the nightstand, and finally chanced upon a crumpled, stale carton. Returning to the table, he sketched an array on a stray sheet of paper and transmuted them smooth and reasonably fresh again. "Will these do?"

"Definitely. Thanks." Li put one between his lips, and automatically, Al clapped softly and reached over, extending his forefinger to touch the tip. The tobacco and paper crumpled with a barely audible hiss as it caught fire, and Li inhaled.

"I hope it's alright."

"'A woman is a woman, but a Caporal is a cigarette,'" Li recited somewhat fondly. Al smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"You remind me of a friend of ours. Comrade," he corrected himself, envisioning Havoc's reaction to being called 'friend.' "A fellow soldier. He's the one who got Nii-san hooked on these, but he quit when we came back."

"Back?"

"From the East."

"Oh, were you fighting in the Second War?" Politely Li averted his head and blew smoke in the general direction of the half-open window. Al didn't reply, thinking of ways he could respond; thinking he'd said too much.

"It's a shame we didn't run into one another," Li continued, gazing at the ceiling, and once again Al thought he saw – or imagined – a deadened glint in the older man's eyes. "Then again, the military had its hands full with contractors at the time."

_Hands full._ Was it only his imagination which conjured up terrible visions when he focused on Li's face for too long a period of time – or was it guilt? Briefly Al closed his eyes against the memories, and then focused downward, pulling himself forcibly back into his work.

"I'm home."

Al looked up from his work. "Welcome back," he replied. Watching his brother hang up his coat, he noted that he looked, as usual, exhausted. He rose and started to clear off the table again, as Li poked his head into the main room from the kitchenette and repeated Al's greeting. Ed grunted something in his general direction and then headed for the bedroom to change, saying,

"Go ahead and start dinner without me. I might shower before I eat."

The younger brother nodded, then paused in his tidying up, remembering where he'd seen the cat wander not too long before. "Ah, Nii-san…"

Too late.

"Al. What exactly is lying on my bed?"

Sensing hostility, the cat jumped nimbly down from where it had made itself comfortable on the bed and attempted to stalk by the young alchemist into the main room, but Ed reached down with his automail hand and scooped it up, holding it as Li had. The cat wailed a bit and Al protested, "You'll hurt him!"

"_Him?_" Ed let the cat drop to the floor and it stalked off, hissing darkly. "I don't believe this. How did we manage to end up with two unwanted creatures in our place in the span of the same day?"

"Neither of them are unwanted! And, Nii-san, having Li here was something that you thought of, not me."

Ed shook his head, starting to say, "I'm too tired to argue…" but trailed off instead when he saw the food that Li was carrying into the main room. "He made dinner?"

"I hope it's alright," Li said, as Al assured his brother,

"Li is a great cook. He made me lunch, and it was delicious, so I suggested that we make dinner together, but he went ahead and handled it himself. Wasn't that kind of him?"

"I don't know what else he was supposed to do all day," Ed commented as he swung the bedroom door shut. Al, however, had caught the gleam of surprise (and, though restrained, appreciation) in his brother's eyes.

When they had settled down to eat, Ed's eyes widened at the amount and variety of food on the table. Though Al was a decent cook (Ed himself could not cook in any sense of the word), he had never before seen such a spread aside from larger get-togethers for which several people, usually friends of the brothers, had all collaborated. There was soup, salad, noodles and meat, rice, a pot of cooked vegetables, fried bean curd; and in quantities which were much more than enough for the three of them. Ed glanced down at the cat, which had settled itself on top of Al's feet underneath the table.

"Don't tell me we're expecting more of his friends."

Al laughed, imagining a tableful of cats, and the sound seemed strange both to him and to his brother. A little abashed, Li explained,

"I've always had something of a big appetite."

"So I see. I'll have to let the Colonel know so that he can make a note of it in our expense report."

_Expense report?_ Al looked to his older brother expectantly. "Nii-san, does that mean that – ?"

Ed waved his brother's question off, reaching for a bowl of soup. Anticipating his motion, Li picked it up and passed it to him, and he accepted it with only a slight motion of annoyance. "It's not something I'd like to discuss over dinner, really, but his presence here has been approved, as long as the array is kept intact. Once there is a transfer, he'll be moved into the usual lodgings."

"That's great!" Met with two pairs of upraised eyebrows, Al cleared his throat and suddenly found his salad extremely interesting. "I mean…it's just nice to have some company during the day."

"Hmph." Ed seemed neither pleased nor displeased with Al's explanation, but a slow expression of contentment was working its way over his features as he ate. "This isn't half bad."

Li smiled. "Thanks." He was eating slowly but methodically, and had already worked his way through a plate and a half. Al had seen something of his appetite at lunch, and as it had then, it bemused the young alchemist. _If I didn't know better, I'd think his remuneration was to eat…_

Noting the atmosphere of relative peace that had settled over the table, Al decided to try his luck. "So…how was work today?"

"Fine. I had to finish up on the last round of tests before I could get to our new arrivals, though." Ed gestured at Li with his fork. "Maybe tomorrow, or the next day. What do you say, contractor? Want to see your comrades?"

The cat picked itself off Al's feet and stalked off behind them. Al scowled at his brother, but Li didn't seem to notice, or mind. He only smiled wanly and said, "I'd like that very much."

"Well, we'll see."

Something told Al not to push further, but some part of him had been becoming more and more irked by his brother's continual verbal jabs at Li. It was unlike his brother to treat the contractors they worked with in this way – or, at least, it _had_ been unlike him, when he and Al used to conduct their research together at the lab. The first wave of contractor research had been conducted in the aftermath of the Second War, and though Ed and Al hadn't been directly involved, they knew that egregious violations of human rights had occurred. 'Egregious violations' – it was a good euphemism for the whole of the war.

Life had continued more or less uninterrupted from that point on; or so the brothers pretended that it had. However, since the murders a month previous, recalling all the horrors which had come before, Al had worked from home, and he feared the possibility that his brother's behavior toward Li might be an indication of an altered attitude toward contractors in general.

None of them had left the front lines of the war completely intact. But he hesitated to think that Ed could have changed so drastically.

Thinking this, Al purposefully brought up a topic that he suspected might stir his brother to a negative reaction. As casually as possible, he swallowed the noodles he had been chewing and said, "Li's not just company, either. Today he offered to help me with my work. I think it would go a lot faster if there were two of us transcribing, or at very least if I had someone to dictate to me."

Ed paused mid-bite. Though his face did not seem to change, Al noted that his mood had chilled considerably. Replacing his fork, he shrugged. "If you need dictation, call Schiezka. If you're finding compilation too hard, maybe we need to switch places."

"I don't 'need' either of those things," Al replied, refusing to rise to his brother's bait. "You know very well that we can't have anyone else from the military helping us until we've compiled the full report. I think it makes sense for Li to help me while he's here, if he's willing." He glanced at the contractor, who nodded. "Maybe he can even help us…after all, he's different from the others. If we're going to have a complete theory, we need input from both sides."

Now Ed's anger was palpable. With one hand he pushed his chair back from the table, and pointed the other at Al. "Listen to what you're saying. You can't have help from the military because we don't want information leaking, and you think that this rogue contractor is going to be more reliable and trustworthy? We don't know anything about him."

"Exactly!" Al felt heat rising to his face. "We don't, and you've just made all these hateful assumptions…he's sitting right here, and you can't even call him by his name or talk directly to him!"

"That's probably not even his real name," Ed growled back. His face had registered brief, but profound, hurt at the word 'hateful.' "He's no different from any of the others."

Al felt a sensation like choking rise in his chest. "Nii-san, when did you change so much?"

"_Change?_" Ed rose and gestured sharply. "Don't you remember _anything?_ Fuck it. I'm going to bed." So saying, he slammed his chair back into place and stormed off to the bedroom, rattling the door closed behind him. The loud _click_ of a lock being turned echoed in the now-silent apartment, and Al's chest heaved painfully. He stared at his half-empty plate, fighting tears.

Suddenly he felt a tentative hand on his shoulder, and turned to face Li. The contractor's face was full of concern, and Al felt instinctively that it was genuine. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't intend to come between you and your brother."

Al shook his head, feeling an overwhelming weariness at the anticipation of another long night's argument. "You're not the problem. Things haven't been right between us in a while."

Li nodded to show he understood, then withdrew his hand hesitantly. "Should I wrap up your plate, or…?"

"I'm not hungry anymore, thank you." Al stood. "Let me help you with cleaning up," he offered, starting to reach for a plate.

"Don't worry," Li insisted. "I'll take care of it."

The gratitude Al felt at the older man's kindness was nearly as overwhelming as his confusion and weariness. Slowly he made his way to the couch and lay down, slinging one arm across his face to block out the light. He heard Li quietly clear the table, and at length sensed the contractor's presence at his side briefly, hearing the sound of him setting something down on the coffee table between the couches.

When he heard the contractor pad almost soundlessly back into the kitchenette, Al peeked out from underneath his arm and noted the mug of warm spiced milk Li had placed there. Shifting to a sitting position, he took it up and sipped, the warmth spreading through his body in a comforting way. _How could Nii-san ever be suspicious of someone who is so kind, even while he's being kept as a prisoner?_

"Miaow." Al felt the cat, first rubbing itself on his legs, lightly jump up and land beside him on the couch. Purring softly, it curled closer to him. He rubbed between its ears absently as Li re-entered the main room with a mug of his own and took a seat on the couch opposite. In silence he sipped at his mug, deferentially allowing Al to gather his thoughts.

Al knew he would have to speak to his brother that night, even if it meant waking him up. Finishing his milk, he rose, and, giving an apologetic half-smile to Li, motioned toward the bedroom. "I'm going to talk to him."

Li nodded, stretching out a hand to take the empty mug. "In that case, I think I'll retire for the night." He rose as well, and gestured with one of the mugs toward the front door. "You should probably lock it. Your brother would be angry."

"You're right." Al went to the door, clapped, and sealed it. He repeated the motion with the windows, then stopped in the kitchenette, where Li was washing dishes. "Good night."

The contractor half-turned, giving an empathetic smile. "Good night."

He stood before the bedroom door, drew a deep breath, and clapped softly, opening it. As he stepped into the dark, he felt something flash by his feet and inwardly cursed for having forgotten the cat. It appeared to have gone under the bed, however, and Al prayed it would stay there.

Softly he shut the door. "Nii-san," he said, groping blindly. "Nii-san."

* * *

Hours later, Hei was dozing lightly when he heard the barely audible creak of the bedroom door. He tensed but did not move, and soon felt the light weight of Mao settling on the arm of the couch above his head. For a moment neither spoke, listening for the brothers, but no noises followed. The loudest of the yelling had subsided nearly an hour earlier, but even at its loudest Hei had had trouble making out what the boys were saying. Finally Mao, lashing his tail as he did whenever agitated, remarked,

"Some mess you've gotten us into."

Hei was silent.

"They're a strange pair," Mao hissed, thoughtfully. "I can't say much…the tall one isn't spending the night in there, I think. But their relationship is odd, to say the least."

"That's obvious." Mao seemed unusually contemplative, and Hei likewise noted an air of pensiveness which had seized hold of him.

"You're not getting invested here, are you, Hei?"

"Are you?" Hei returned, somehow managing to make the inquiry sound totally disinterested.

"Just intrigued." They both heard the floorboards squeak, and Mao tensed and leapt off the couch. "Tell you more later."

In the faint glow of the streetlights below which came in through the windows, Hei could see that Al looked exhausted. The light reflected off his tear-streaked face as Mao padded over to him, miaowing plaintively, and the young alchemist obligingly went to the window and opened it for him. When he had gone, Al locked it again and then went into the kitchenette. Hearing the sound of running water, Hei wondered if he should go in to talk to him, but decided against it.

When Al returned, his face dripped with water, and the light caught the moisture in the hair framing his face; he'd clearly washed it there. Going to the couch opposite Hei, he arranged a pillow and blankets, and then brought one over. As he unfolded it and swept it up to spread it over the contractor, Al noticed his half-open eyes, and averted his face in shame. Neither spoke, however, and within minutes they were each lying on their backs on separate couches, drifting uneasily toward sleep.

* * *

After leaving the apartment, Mao allowed himself a prolonged stretch in the courtyard, followed by a brief roll in the frosted winter grass, the ice clinging to his dark fur. The underside of the bed had been even worse than the couch, and he longed to exercise his muscles and clear the dust out of the back of his throat.

Remembering he had a purpose to fulfill, he stretched one last time and then sprang up, heading swiftly toward the hole dug under the wall which surrounded the military complex at Central. He could have easily sauntered through the front gates, but he preferred to attract as little attention as possible, particularly as it appeared that he'd become the Fullmetal Alchemists' pet.

As he made his way through the midnight city, Mao reflected on the conversation he'd overheard between the two young alchemists. Despite hours of the younger one's pleading, the elder had remained firm in his bitter convictions. A dangerous person, it seemed. On the other hand, while the younger was clearly grieving, it was his relentless optimism that was truly heartbreaking; Mao had heard him struggling to hold on to it, and to his brother as well, and the elder had shrugged him off as if he were a mere annoyance.

The atmosphere of the conversation, nonetheless, had been intimate, with long pauses and, judging from the noises of the bed above Mao, attempts on the part of the younger brother to reconcile physically, or to at least evoke an emotional response out of the elder. It had been after the third of these rebuffed attempts that he'd finally rose and said, in a totally different tone,

"Fine. I won't bother you anymore."

Ultimately Mao had gathered no new information, and though interested in the brothers' relationship out of a slight _schadenfruede_, was annoyed at the time he had wasted. He paused underneath a street light, drawing a rear paw to his mouth and using his small fangs to dislodge a piece of ice stuck between his toes. Their original plan had involved none of this, but it seemed that they were in a position to uncover some valuable information eventually. It would be uncomfortable to do so at the expense of this pair of abnormally close brothers, but it was an opportunity from which neither of them could turn away until they'd fulfilled the terms of their mission.

Finally he reached the rendezvous point in a long narrow passageway between two restaurants, and upon turning over a few garbage can lids he found the message that had been left for him, scrawled on a stained napkin:

_Apprised of the situation. As you were. Further instructions will come in a month's time. _

The cat snarled a little with displeasure at the delay, then fell upon the task of shredding the note to pieces and rubbing them into the mud. Finally satisfied, he headed out of the alley on light feet, mulling over the instructions. They were being given freedom to conduct themselves as they saw fit.

He decided half-absently that he would withhold what he had overhead and surmised inside of Elrics' bedroom from Hei, and observe on his own how the contractor handled himself between the two of them. Hei's genuine emotions and thoughts were notoriously difficult to read, and Mao wondered at the surprising effort he'd already gone to in order to ingratiate himself with the younger one.

Then again, perhaps it was because he sensed that it was the lever by which he could manipulate the two of them apart, thus gathering the information and situational benefits which were sure to arise from the fallout. In the final analysis, it didn't seem likely to get him any closer to his ultimate goal…but perhaps by now, Mao reflected with a touch of cynicism, Hei's eventual intention had changed. It was never easy to tell with him.

Head tilted toward the overcast night sky, Mao twitched an ear. It would snow soon, and with this in mind he headed back for the military complex, looking forward to sleeping – much to the contractor's annoyance – in the warm place between the couch and Hei's back. For the moment, he decided, the best thing to do was to wait, and bide his time.

In the street, a light snow gathered.


	4. Day

Early the next morning, Hei found himself drawn out of sleep by the near-inaudible noise of the elder Fullmetal brother leaving. The sun had not yet started to force its way through the curtains, and Ed cursed under his breath as he stubbed his flesh toe on the leg of a chair in the pre-dawn darkness.

Hei kept one eye half-open, watching him negotiate his way through the main room. He paused briefly by the door, and then Hei heard a soft clap and the noise of the array being deactivated; then Ed was gone as quickly as he had appeared from the bedroom.

Musing on his stealthy disappearance, Hei turned his open eye toward Al, but the younger brother seemed to be sleeping peacefully. When he woke, the contractor knew, his peace would not come as easily. He sensed further turmoil brewing between the two.

Al did not sleep for long before there came a knock at the door. To his credit, he was almost immediately awake and alert, springing up from his couch to go and answer it. Inwardly Hei was satisfied. As expected of a soldier. He listened to the conversation at the door without moving. It seemed that he was being summoned to the presence of the Colonel. Al seemed none too happy about it, but he acquiesced to letting Hei go.

The woman who escorted him was slim, the prettiness of her features obscured by a pair of no-nonsense glasses and a tight ponytail. She had insisted on handcuffing him, and though Al had protested, she had her way. From her physical features, demeanor and the way Al deferred to her, Hei guessed that she was Lieutenant Misaki Kirihara, head of enforcement for Central.

Mentally he reviewed what he knew of her. Though she'd been a member of the military since she was young – her father was a decorated general in the East War – she hadn't participated in the Second War. Instead, as someone who treasured no apparent ambition, she'd basically been given control of Central in the absence of most of the higher officials, and command over the city's police force.

From the way she escorted him, Hei was able to add two personal observations to his information on her: one, that she was a capable soldier (she kept a firm grip on his bicep and a hand at the small of his back the entire time, even with the added precaution of handcuffs) and two, that she had no fondness for contractors, despite her lack of experience in the East. She handled him none too gently, and each time they passed other soldiers her grip became a stranglehold.

Finally they arrived at the offices. Kirihara knocked before entering, and saluted once inside; her free hand, however, did not leave Hei's arm. Without moving his head, the contractor surveyed the large office. Mustang's treasured half-dozen. Looking over the ones staffing the office, Hei only counted three present plus his escort; it made sense, considering that two (Breda and Falman) worked mainly in the prison and the 'research lab.' As they entered, only the smallest of them – Fury – lifted a pair of nervous dark eyes upward to look him over. At the head of the room, the colonel was deep in conversation with his second-in-command, but he raised his head as Kirihara hauled Hei over.

The colonel. It had been a personal affront to him when his military status remained unchanged in the coup d'etat which preceded the Second War. He was a competent fighter, as Hei had seen firsthand, and the expression in his dark eyes, though subtle, was unpleasantly hungry. To a fellow human, Mustang would likely seemed cold and clinical; to a contractor, practiced in the experience of entertaining no emotion, he seemed a dry forest, prepared to catch flame at the smallest glint; in other words, a man on the edge of imbalance. Hei met his gaze steadily and did not smile.

Mustang rose. "Thank you, Lieutenant. If you'll blindfold him, I'll escort him to the lab myself."

Hei sensed Kirihara's disapproval, but she did a remarkable job of disguising it. Using a handkerchief, she covered his eyes. The tip of the blindfold slipped down over his nose, and he could smell her on it – a surprisingly feminine scent. Hei felt her glaring at him and grinned.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder. The colonel guided him gently, with a "Come", and then did not speak for some time. They passed down long hallways, took several elevators, and finally, judging from the smell of mildew and the drop in temperature, were underground. The floor felt uneven but solid; probably stone, not dirt. Eventually they stopped, and Mustang guided him so that his back was against one of the walls. Definitely stone. He heard the sound of fingers snapping and then felt an intense heat. The blindfold burnt away before his eyes, leaving behind the stink of fabric ash and an impression like a solar flare. Mustang was smirking.

"You didn't even flinch, did you? Amazing."

Hei did not reply, coolly regarding Mustang with an expression that could not be said to be disdainful, exactly.

"I'll get to the point quickly," the colonel continued, clearly barely able to restrain himself. His pupils were dilated in the low light of the long hallway. "I want you.

"Thus far, the best we've been able to make of you have been research subjects. Even crime syndicates have been ahead of us in this regard. I want to advance your people further – to really make use of your potential. I want you to be a part of this country in a productive and meaningful way. There's no better way to do that than through the military."

"You're talking about hiring contractors as mercenaries," Hei observed, voice flat.

"In a crude sense, yes, but you'll be members of the military, contributing members of society. You'll be compensated well and treated with as much respect and deference as our state alchemists. State contractors," the colonel pronounced with obvious satisfaction. Hei could almost smell the stench of raw greed and ambition.

"I thought your country was at peace."

"For now," Mustang acknowledged. "But as you are well aware, there are still those out there who would bring Amestris harm. I want to be prepared for contingencies." The sour downturn of his mouth combined with the near-crazed gleam in his oily black eyes was startling. "So disappointing, the outcome of the Second War. Neither of us got what we really wanted, did we? I am offering you this chance to advance yourself and your kind."

_And to advance yourself right into the Fuhrer's office. _Hei considered briefly. The whole situation reeked of political intrigue. Did this colonel know who he was, to be offering him this proposal in person; or was he taking advantage of a random opportunity? It was almost certain that he would be punished if he refused, but if he agreed, he could not see a very long future for himself. In military coups and warfare alike, lackeys and mercenaries tended to be the ones caught in the crossfire – or hanged at the trials.

"Needless to say, you will be compensated handsomely," Mustang pressed.

"I decline."

"What?"

"I _respectfully_ decline. Colonel." Hei controlled a smirk. He swore he could see Mustang smoldering, and regarded him coolly from his clenched, smoking fists to the vein popping out on his temple. Suddenly, the colonel seemed to calm: he took a breath, smoothed out his facial muscles, straightened, and smiled. Clapping a hand on Hei's shoulder, he steered him down the dark corridor.

"A shame," was the only remark he made further, after they had come to a heavy, ornately wrought iron door. The colonel touched the array displayed on its face, and it glowed a sickly green before popping open with a hiss. "Nevertheless, you'll be of use."

Steeling himself, Hei smiled grimly.

* * *

Nearly a week passed in this fashion – Ed departed before either of them rose, and only returned home well after they'd had supper, speaking only in a perfunctory manner to his brother and not at all to Hei. Apparently, whatever they'd discussed had been enough to drive them apart semi-permanently. Hei was curious, but had no particular time to talk it over with Mao, since the brothers weren't speaking and the cat spent most of his time in reconnaissance about the city.

Meanwhile, Hei was escorted daily to the lab with the wrought iron door that he was sure neither brother knew about, where the researchers did not speak or show their faces. He was treated roughly, but overall the varieties of pain they subjected him to were nothing he hadn't felt before. If he feared at all, it was that they would begin to tamper with his mind, unmistakably the most vulnerable part of his body and being. Strung upside down, he closed his eyes and thought of Yin. Were they bringing her here, too? Forgetting the admonition to remain still, his mouth curled into an involuntary snarl, hands making fists, and he received a mild shock in response. Sweat pooled at his temples and oozed down. He'd heard them talking. They wanted to cut into his head. For that, said one, they would have to wait until his transfer. The children wouldn't like it. The _younger_ wouldn't like it; the older will come around. The blood behind his eyelids became darker.

Upon his returning, though he could see that Al was curious – and concerned – the young alchemist was polite enough, or hesitant enough, not to ask about what happened on his daily excursions.

The contractor broke up the rest of his days with light exercise, cleaning, and cooking. He also wrote several letters to Suou and Yin, and from time to time was called upon by Al to assist in his work – to the defiance of his brother's wishes, but not to any great extent – as Hei only copied down arrays, lists of alchemical materials, or letters to various government or military officials: that was, only innocuous, disconnected information. Hei did his best to etch the arrays in his memory anyway, thinking they might have their use, eventually.

Meanwhile, the letters he wrote piled up on the coffee table, ignored by the elder alchemist, and slowly he and Al came to know one another.

The information Hei doled out was selective – that he was originally from Xing, that he had come to possess his ability more or less a year ago, and that he had been on the run since. Al, on the other hand, seemed hungry for company, and eagerly volunteered information about himself and his brother. Hei learned that they were Amestris-born, that they had no other siblings, that both of their parents were dead; that Ed had been a State Alchemist for quite some time, but that Al had only taken his exams the past summer.

Al even told him, hesitantly, that the nature of their research prior to the appearance of contractors had dealt with biological alchemy, but after a trip to the region around Hell's Gate early last spring, they had switched their focus slightly.

"Only last spring? The appearance of the Gate was nearly two years ago."

Al nodded. "We were – detained for awhile, working on other things. And you know, the appearance of contractors wasn't confirmed until nearly a month after the Gate. Within the military, it takes awhile for things to become official. Bureaucracy moves at its own pace."

"It doesn't seem that it took very long for the military to conclude that contractors were a threat to public safety," Hei noted, gently. He'd come to understand that Al felt conflicted about the military's attitude toward contractors, and toward the brothers' own research, and thus he tried to phrase his inquiries and comments as tactfully as possible.

"After the war…it couldn't be helped," Al struggled to explain. "The military was in a very delicate position."

Hei waved him off, smiling a little. "Don't worry." The young alchemist's relentless politeness and humility were somewhat endearing. Hei noted the dirty look Mao was giving him – probably for not pushing hard enough for information – and shot back an equally dirty 'you're the one who's licking between your toes' look, but the cat just yawned and continued his bath.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Al gave an apologetic smile and went to answer it, Hei (and Mao too, though surreptitiously) turning to see who it was. His daily summons had come and gone; he hoped, feeling the ache in his ankles where he had been suspended once again, that it was not an invitation for a second round.

It was a child. _Surprising, on a military complex._ She wore a set of traditional Xingese robes, and her long dark hair was pulled into several tight braids. She bowed courteously to Al as he opened the door. "How are you, Alphonse?"

It was even more surprising to hear her address him as an equal. Hei rose respectfully, noting Mao's fur, which was standing on end.

"Edward asked me to come and have a look at your guest – oh! You didn't tell me you bought a cat!" The girl's age was apparent as she tossed down her satchel and rushed to Mao's side, scooping him up into her lap, where she proceeded to vigorously rub his belly. The cat made alternating faces of enjoyment and chagrin, Hei regarding both with amusement.

Al closed the door and brought the girl's satchel over to the couches. "Li, this is Mei Chang."

Mei paused in her attentions to Mao to nod at Hei, smiling. "_How do you do?_" she asked in lilting Xingese.

"_Fine, thank you. It's a pleasure_," Hei answered, sensing the time was correct for him to resume his seat. "_Would you like some tea?_"

"No thank you," she replied cheerfully, switching back to Amestrian. "I'm only supposed to check in on you briefly; I have rounds to make."

"I'll go make some tea," Al offered, ducking into the kitchenette before either of them could explain their exchange. Watching him depart, Mei smiled fondly. She released Mao, who dashed under one of the couches, and rose to sit next to Hei.

"Is it strange being here? I thought so when I first came. But really, it's not so difficult after you get used to it." As she chatted effortlessly, Mei motioned for Hei to remove his shirt. "Of course your situation is a little different than mine…although when I first came, it wasn't all that different. I was on the run for awhile too, you know." She squinted at the bandages before starting to unwrap them. "Al, you've done a really good job!"

"Thank you," Al called back, and even though Hei could not see his face, his blush was evident in his tone.

"You're lucky, though, you know, to be with Al and Ed. You couldn't find a better place to stay." Mei nodded seriously as she examined the burn, now almost completely healed over, a dark shade of pink. "Has it been very lonely anyway? It must feel unpleasant to be a sort of prisoner." She did not wait for him to reply. Instead, digging in her satchel, she brought out a stick of charcoal. "Alright. Just a little touch-up and you'll be fine."

Hei watched as her energetic flow of words stopped and she nibbled her lower lip, concentrating. Carefully she drew a complicated array over the burn, and then activated it. Hei felt a tingling like someone had brushed a hand down his spine, and when the soft blue light faded away, the tenderness of the burn had disappeared. The color, too, had dulled considerably.

Al was leaning over the couch with a tea tray in hand, watching them. "As usual, Mei, your work is amazing."

Now it was the girl's turn to blush. "You can put your shirt back on now, Mr. Contractor." Switching her focus, she remonstrated with Mao, who had come out from under the couch and was regarding her satchel intensely, with a fixed expression on his face. "No, no. You can't go in there."

"Is Xiao Mei with you?" Al asked.

"Yes," she replied, gathering the satchel closer to her. Hei caught a glimpse of faint movement; judging by the expression on Al's face, the 'Xiao Mei' was a furry, small creature of some kind. Al's posture clearly demonstrated that he wanted to play with it, but Mei kept her eyes on Mao and shook her head. "Al, what are you feeding your cat?"

"Ah…I think he eats outside mostly."

"That won't do. You should feed him properly." Hitching her satchel over her shoulder, Mei rose. "Well, Mr. Contractor, I'm on my way." Having placed a friendly hand on Hei's back, the girl now started, surprised, and drew it away. "Oh…have you been sleeping alright?"

"Fine, I think." Hei tensed as she prodded his back.

"Your chi is all out of alignment."

"He's been sleeping on the couch," Al explained, looking embarrassed.

"Well, transmute it into a bed." Mei poked at a couple of places between Hei's shoulderblades and he drew in his breath sharply, feeling a sensation of relief. "Is your brother sleeping out here too? He's been really grumpy."

"He has?" Al feigned ignorance.

"Yes, and Riza and Misaki were complaining that you two haven't come to visit them lately." Despite her initial refusal of tea, Mei now grabbed a cup, added a few lumps of sugar, and sipped rapidly. "Mr. Hughes isn't doing well, either. He could use some company."

"I'll tell Nii-san you said so."

Gulping down the last of her tea, Mei straightened up and half-saluted them both. "I'm off! _Nice to meet you_."

"_You too_," Hei called after her back. To Al, once the door had closed, he remarked, "She's young for a doctor."

"The youngest in Central, but probably one of the most skilled. She's been working here while helping us to expand our knowledge of alkahestry." Al smiled at him. "I knew you weren't lying to me. Nii-san is just suspicious."

Hei realized that Al was referring to the exchange he'd had in Xingese with Mei, and returned the smile. "I'm sorry if I'm keeping you from your usual routine. It sounds as though you have friends who miss you."

"No, no, it's not your fault." Al sighed. "Things have been that way for awhile. For all her knowledge, Mei is only a child."

He was being vague, but Hei didn't push him, sensing that his vagueness arose not from intent to conceal but from genuine inability to voice his thoughts. After a few second's pause, the young alchemist changed the subject.

"I was thinking…only if you want to, of course…we could spar for a bit, in the courtyard." Al seemed to be rushing over his words. "I mean, now that Mei gave you the go-ahead…because usually my brother and I spar at least twice a week, but…"

"I'd like that," Hei assured him before he stepped out any further on the limb he'd imagined for himself. Al grinned. "But is it permitted?"

"Oh, yes. Like Nii-san said, some of the other alchemists have contractors staying with them, and it would be impolite for anyone to…" Al trailed off. "What I'm saying is that I don't think anyone will make a fuss."

"Good." Already Hei was stretching, testing his body against the daily toll that was taken from him and wondering if he were up for a spar. Massaging his shoulder, he reflected on May's enthusiastic stream of Xingese and the way her dark eyes had reflected his own, and tamped down on the memories which threatened to surface.

* * *

Outside, the sky was overcast and cold, but light. Al purposefully brought Li to the courtyard, where they were surrounded only by military housing, and most of the occupants were out at work, the shades of their windows drawn down in their absence. They'd changed into light exercise clothing (Al had transmuted a pair of Ed's old coveralls for Li's purposes), and the cold bit through the thin fabric. After a few more warm-up stretches, Li glanced over, grinning.

"Alchemy is cheating, you know."

"I won't have to use it to win," Al bragged in a lighthearted way. He enjoyed the feel of his muscles working in the cool air. The sounds around them seemed muffled; his movements, already, were slowing perceptibly in his own evaluation, as he began to calm himself and concentrate.

He noticed Li's perpetually bemused expression had slipped into something stonier, colder, and he likewise allowed himself to drop his grin and become serious. They began to circle each other. Al sought out Li's eyes, while Li dropped his, focusing on Al's feet.

Sensing that he would have to be the one to make the first move, Al ducked low and rushed in, attempting to use Li's height against him. Li evaded easily, twisting and launching his body over Al's, but did not attempt to take advantage of Al's undefended back. Puzzled, and panting a little, Al circled back around, watching him warily.

"I hope you're not going easy on me just because I'm a kid," Al laughed.

Li gave a thin smile, and for a third time Al thought he sensed something vaguely dangerous in his expression. "Don't worry…I'm not."

This became apparent in a few minutes' time, as Li switched to the offensive and Al had to block more and more blows in succession. _He's fast – very fast. I'm holding him off now, but if my concentration slips even a bit, he'll have me._ Rapidly Al gave ground, looking for a more suitable piece of terrain upon which to recover the upper hand. _There, by those trees – a patch of frozen mud._

Al began to shift Li over slowly so that the contractor would not notice his intentions, but before he was able to make it, a voice boomed out over the courtyard:

"Good afternoon, Alphonse Elric!"

That was it. Al's concentration broken, he received a heavy, open-handed blow to the right side of his jaw, slipped, and fell in the mud he had intended to use against Li. He shook his head to clear it, noticed Li's outstretched hand, and took it, righting himself. The contractor was grinning, somewhat embarrassed. "Are you alright? I didn't mean for you to fall."

"I'm fine," Al assured him. He rubbed his jaw and worked it around cautiously. For an open-handed blow, Li's hit had carried a lot of force. Mildly annoyed, Al rolled his eyes good-naturedly when he noted the source of his distraction. Drawing himself up, he returned Armstrong's greeting salute. "Good afternoon, Major."

"Invigorating weather, isn't it?" Armstrong seemed oblivious to the fact that he had interrupted Al and Li's sparring match. His eyes widened as he beheld the contractor, and out of reflex he pressed his fists together and flexed a little. "Oh-ho, Alphonse, you have a friend with you!"

Al noted Li's surprise at the word 'friend,' but the contractor smiled and bowed, some of his dark hair falling over his eyes in a way that made him look boyish for a moment. "Hello. I'm Li Shengshun."

"Alex Louis Armstrong. A pleasure!" Armstrong indicated the girl with him for introduction as well. "This is my niece, Tanya."

Li greeted her as well, and Al nodded. Tanya, not a strand of her white-blond hair out of place, did not appear to acknowledge either of them. Armstrong's niece – one of his brother's daughters – had become a contractor a few months previous, and when her family had reacted with horror, Armstrong had taken her in, bypassing the alternative of imprisonment by virtue of an executive order issued by his sister, the Fuhrer. Such sympathy was unlike her, and Al knew it had taken a lot of pleading (and annoying) on Armstrong's part.

Now, Tanya was his constant companion, save for when he had business which took him out of Central, at which time she was, like the other contractors, confined in a research lab. As far as Al had seen, she had no particular preference for one situation or another. Armstrong doted on her, her apparent indifference doing nothing to dampen his usual enthusiasm.

"It isn't every day that Tanya gets to meet someone who isn't a member of the military," Armstrong was saying to Li. "Perhaps the two of you would like to get acquainted, while I take a short walk with Alphonse."

Al was surprised at this suggestion, but acquiesced. He noticed that Li was looking to him for approval, which he found both odd and somehow comforting, and leaving the two contractors on a bench beneath an elm bare of leaves, he walked with Armstrong along the west wall.

* * *

Once they were alone, Hei allowed himself to relax a little. His muscles burned and ached from his exertions, and he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and allowing his forearms to hang down. His hair had worked its way free of the tie with which he'd bound it, and a stiff winter breeze caught the ends and lifted them up over his hot forehead, which felt good.

Hei watched the retreat of the major, wondering at the fact that such a man's sister had clawed – some would say massacred – her way to the very top of the military during the Second War. Then, in turn, he studied the girl carefully. She seemed to be only a year or so older than the twins. Startled, Hei realized that _Al_ was only a few years older than the twins, and transferred his attention back to the alchemist and the major, who seemed deep in conversation. It was strange how much older, and, at the same time, younger, Al seemed. When he pulled his focus back, the girl was regarding him with flat, ice blue eyes.

"You're a contractor," she stated.

"Yes."

"Are you his family, too?"

"No."

"Hm." Seeming to decide that he was not of interest, Tanya looked away again. Like the twins, however – like most young contractors Hei had met – she looked unsure, and after another pause, continued, "It is strange living with a human."

Mildly, Hei asked, "Aren't you a human as well?"

"You are aware of my meaning." One eyebrow twitched, almost imperceptibly. "His interest in me is strange. I'm not like you. Smiling does not come easily to me."

"With practice it will come more naturally."

"I know he is my uncle. I have memories of his fondness for me, and mine for him. Though I remember these things, I do not feel them." Hei glanced over and perceived the barest hint of struggle in the smooth brow. "Though I acknowledge that I have been cast out of my parents' house, that I am essentially a prisoner, I feel nothing."

Staring at the wall where Al and the major had stopped, Hei said, "If you truly felt nothing, you could not say any of this."

Tanya raised her head and looked at him again.

"You must do your best to remember, and be kind to your uncle. He cares for you." Though Hei's words were gentle, his tone was neutral. Rising, he stretched, his back having gone stiff from sitting in the cold.

"Why must I?"

"It's not good to be overly indifferent. Your body will wear itself out." Hei warmed his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Practice."

"Practice?"

"Feeling."

"It is not only me. He is – in love – with a contractor." Tanya's disgust was evident in her voice. "A terrible one."

"What makes her so terrible?"

Tanya paused for a significant amount of time. "She has murdered many. She has no remorse…"

"Neither would you, if you killed now." Hei stopped in his stretching to regard her. "You cannot claim to maintain feeling and indifference both at their extremes."

She looked up at him, and her eyes were pained, if only slightly. "He will abandon me in favor of her. I do not wish to go to prison."

Hei resumed his seat. "Do as I say. Practice."

* * *

"How are you doing, Alphonse?"

"Fine, Major." Al paused, searching for a more honest answer, as he sensed Armstrong's inquiry had been genuine. Their breath made clouds in the air. "As well as can be expected, I suppose."

"You've had a series of shocks in the past two years," Armstrong observed soberly. "You'd do well to take care of yourself, and your brother, too."

Armstrong's tone seemed to have hardened slightly, and his usually merry eyes were cold. "My brother…?"

"He was the one who sent me out here, actually." Armstrong paused, slowing down, then glanced up casually, as if he had noticed a bird. "There, in the window of the Colonel's quarters. We _were_ having a meeting."

Al looked up as well, and caught a glimpse of his brother's face, smashed against the windowpane as he struggled to observe what was going on, before it disappeared hurriedly. Sighing, he looked back to Armstrong.

"Your brother says: take care of your body. You aren't being careful enough. The cold – "

"I am being careful. It's not that cold." Al realized how rude he sounded, and stopped. "I'm sorry."

"I'm merely repeating his words, Alphonse, not presuming one way or another." Armstrong gazed at him with heartfelt concern. "Though it does seem that you two have something you ought to talk about."

"Is he alright?"

Armstrong chucked. "I think the Colonel's desk suffered more than he did, but he has seemed more irritable than usual lately…and we have noticed his presence in the cafeteria for meals. It seems he kicks up quite a fuss about the standard-issue milk."

Thoroughly embarrassed, Al clapped a hand over his forehead. "I'm sorry, Major. Please rest assured that I'll sort it out."

"Very good." Armstrong inclined his head toward Li. "If the familial strife is being exacerbated by his presence, I have an extra couch in my quarters…"

"No, thank you. That won't be necessary," Al demurred, though, as he rubbed his jaw, remembering, he added, "I hope," under his breath. He noticed that Tanya was approaching, and pointed out her advance to Armstrong with surprise. "Your niece."

"Uncle." Was it is his imagination, or did her features seem more relaxed than before? Drawing closer to them, she tilted her face upward toward Armstrong's, a ghost of a smile brushing her lips. Shocked, Al stared as she took one slim hand out of her thick muffler and held it out to the major. "Shall we go home?"

Armstrong, like Al, seemed speechless; the former's broad face broke out into a moustache-twitching smile. As he took her hand in both of his, fairly sparkling, Al glanced over at the bench where they had been sitting. Li lifted his hand in greeting. Al waved back, unsure of what to think.

* * *

Ed tensed as he heard footfalls outside in the hall, and then stood bolt upright when they stopped outside of the door. He faced the door awkwardly as Al and Li came in, chatting about something, and remained where he stood as they fell silent. It turned his stomach to see them walking and speaking so close to one another. Li's dark blue eyes seemed to repel his own, mocking him.

Al was the first to speak. "Nii-san," he said, sounding equally dismayed and conciliatory.

Ed inclined his head toward the bedroom. "Let's talk."

When they were alone, the door shut, Al immediately attempted again to explain, his brows knit up with concern, his hands extended in a vague plea. "Nii-san, I –" but was interrupted by Ed's grasping him tightly. For a moment he flinched as if expecting a blow, and Ed's heart dropped, but he returned the embrace. They remained like that as a minute passed. Al was cold, and his clothing smelled of the courtyard grasses. Ed could feel his younger brother's heartbeat against his upper chest, and resisted the urge to tremble. Al rubbed his older brother's back affectionately. It was some time before Ed could bring himself to speak.

"You have to be careful with your body," he said, his voice muffled by Al's shoulder. "It hasn't experienced such cold in a long time."

"I am careful, Nii-san. I checked the temperature before I went out." Al paused, resting his cheek atop his brother's head. Ed felt the vibration of his words run throughout his entire body in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. It felt as though months had passed since they'd touched. "You didn't have to send Armstrong after me, in any case. You could have come yourself."

"I'm sorry." Ed did his best not to choke on the words. "For everything."

"I know." Al swallowed, and again Ed felt the vibration and pulse against his forehead, and this time it brought tears to his eyes. "Me too."

"I'll apologize to Li, too." Still feeling awkward, Ed allowed Al to break the embrace, his younger brother searching his face with his honest, gentle gaze. "I haven't been myself lately. The Colonel let me have it for the way my work performance was suffering."

"I hope he wasn't too hard on you." Al brushed hair out of Ed's eyes. "Are you crying?"

_Shit. _"No," he protested thickly, turning away. Sitting on the edge of the bed, forcing himself not to run away, he took a deep breath. He was a state alchemist. He was a man, now. He was terrible at this.

"Don't be stubborn." His younger brother sat beside him, their legs touching. "We have to talk about this. Nothing won't change if we don't."

_Nothing will change even if we do_. The words felt locked into his throat, unable to emerge. Instead he glanced at his younger brother's face. The hair, a few shades darker than this own, finer, shorter. The irises a few shades darker and more opaque. The cheekbones still slightly more pronounced than was healthy, though that had improved lately; in that respect, Ed was secretly glad of Li's presence. He felt the still-new thrill of having his brother, body and soul, beside him.

Human bodies were so easily destroyed. Unconsciously he felt the fingers of his automail hand flex. Mistaking it as a request for affection, Al put his hand inside of his brother's. Though he could not feel it, Ed knew the flesh was warm and soft. Grief flooded through his body, halting at the stopgaps where the automail connected at his shoulder and thigh. There, he felt nothing but a dull ache of emptiness. Bodies. For months, nothing but the sight of his brother's body, dimly visible at night when they slept, was more than enough to bring him to tears. Nightmares of drifting through the void of the Gate plagued him. Tears seemed a sorry response to the enormity of all that weighed upon him. For months after returning from the war, before he had the comfort of Al's entire body beside him, each time he bathed in warm water it felt as if he were soaking in blood. He took to cold showers and colder baths. He found himself of late returning to these habits. Not inexplicably.

And when he thought of the one who was not there, despite the sacrifices he had made…of the payment, in some convoluted way, for the price of regaining his brother's body, for allowing himself to live ignorantly, selfishly…the tears overwhelmed him anyway, and he allowed Al to slip an arm over his shoulders. Her image, her presence, faint and delicate, haunted him. Even knowing the ludicrousness of the idea, he still felt as though he'd exchanged Al's life for hers.

_I have to stop blaming him. Stop blaming myself._

He feared it would not be possible.

"Nii-san." Al's voice was gentle, but insistent. "Are you thinking of her?"

_Admit it_. "Yeah."

"What are you thinking?"

Empty. His head felt empty. "I don't know."

More time passed. Al's hand continued moving steadily over his brother's back. He paused at the joint where automail joined flesh, and started to rub in small circles, frowning slightly. "Have you gone for a tune-up this month?"

"You know that I haven't." He dreaded the thought of a stranger's fingers in his ports, touching exposed wires and nerves. As if sensing his line of thinking, Al brushed his fingers over the sensitive area where metal and flesh joined, and Ed stifled a gasp.

Al withdrew, returning his hand to Ed's spine. Concern knit his forehead; Ed could feel the tension in him communicated through his fingertips. "You should."

"I will." His throat produced a dry coughing noise which was intended to be a laugh. "It's going to hurt."

"It will hurt if you don't, too." Al's hand paused on the uppermost part of his automail arm, and squeezed hard enough so that Ed could feel it. "I'll go with you."

"I'd like that." Ed swallowed hard, and finally leaned into his brother's shoulder. Al settled around him, moving his hand up to cup his brother's neck. Normally Ed was reticent about accepting such displays of affection from his younger brother, but after such a period of time and space he permitted and even welcomed it. Nonetheless, he changed the subject to mask his depth of feeling, warding off – as he was used to doing – the memories and emotions which threatened to untangle his wretched bonds to reality.

"So, how about it? Does our guest think I'm a villain?"

Al laughed, squeezing the muscles in Ed's neck gently. "A villain? Is that how you've been thinking of yourself?"

"Well, it's difficult to observe myself objectively."

"Especially if you're stubbornly trying not to reflect on your actions," Al teased, eliciting a wan smirk from his brother. "If you can say in reflection that you've been a villain, then perhaps you ought to apologize. That's all I can say. I can't speak for Mr. Li." Al, too, seemed to have other thoughts on his mind. "How is your work going?"

"Terribly. I can't get his little girl friend to talk again for me at all. Maybe I ought to take him down there and see if she'll open up to him." Sensing Al's disapproval, Ed grumbled. "After I apologize, obviously."

"The colonel seems interested in him. He gets called to the lab every day. Has he been in consultation with you about it?"

Ed frowned, misgivings rising in the pit of his stomach. "No. His interest makes sense…but I haven't seen Li there, or received notice of any new projects or reports."

"Maybe it's the other lab?" Al seemed preoccupied by other thoughts, giving the colonel the benefit of his doubt, unlike his elder brother. "Mei says we have to transmute him a bed, too."

Ed groaned. "This is worse than when you took in that stray cat that had kittens."

Al smiled shamefacedly. "We have one of those now, too. But it won't have kittens; it's a male this time."

"So I noticed. Alright." Ed shrugged his brother's arm off and rose. "Let's get this over with."

Ed washed his face in the bathroom sink while Al tidied up around the bedroom, making the bed and picking up books and laundry from the floor. "Nii-san, you've kept this place a mess while I've been sleeping out there," he chided.

"Why else do you think I made up with you?" It was half-hearted, but Ed forced himself to joke with his brother anyway, expend small positive effort, concrete words and actions, reinforcing his sanity.

As they came out of the bedroom together, Ed registered the smell of something delicious cooking; simultaneously, a rapid knocking came at the door. Going to answer it, Li nodded at him from the kitchenette, and he nodded back stiffly, not looking forward to the uncomfortable apology he had yet to perform. It was Falman. He saluted briefly and launched straight into a report.

"There is something wrong with one of your subjects," he announced, his pronounced cheekbones and wan cheeks making him looking grave. "The Colonel wants both of you to attend to it immediately."

Nodding, Ed threw on his jacket while Al rushed back into the bedroom to change. "Which is it?"

Falman consulted his notepad. "One three zero. The girl, Pavlichenko."

Ed caught Li's startled face peeking out of the kitchenette in his peripheral vision. "Alright. We'll be right there." Ushering Falman out, Ed turned to Li. "I owe you an apology, but for now, how would you like to accompany us?"

Putting down the pan he was holding, Li's countenance was a total expression of calm. "I'd like that."

Forcibly setting aside his misgivings for the third time that afternoon, Ed gestured at the door. "Let's go."


	5. Interlude: War

Father's plan to transmute Amestris had been foiled, it was true; but their victory was sickeningly short-lived. In the midst of political intrigue and hierarchical upheaval, the military was busy re-structuring itself in the month after Father and the remaining Homunculi had been driven from Central. Yet had there been peace, it was uncertain whether the outcome would have been different, given Amestris' history with Ishbal. Nevertheless, by the time the rumors of Father's activity reached the capital, the recently appointed Fuhrer Armstrong was loath to address them. She had granted Ishbal autonomy as part of the agreement with the refugees for their aid; but it seemed that would not suffice, and when the war finally broke out, this was certain. The Fuhrer had no choice. She deployed her army to Ishbal.

The official report from military personnel stationed at the Ishbalan border was that they had been attacked by a group of Ishbalans, and were nearly slaughtered, for no clearly discernable reason. It later became clear that the rumors – spread, no doubt, by Father and his creations – stated that the reason Amestris had enlisted the help of Ishbalan refugees was only so that they could complete the extermination they had begun years earlier; by driving Father from their country, they enabled him to open Hell's Gate in Ishbal, swallowing a large portion of the country and its people.

Ed received his draft letter in the second wave of recruitment. The Fuhrer brought it to him in person, her manner a thin shade less stern and as apologetic as it was ever going to get. There was strange alchemical activity in the area around Hell's Gate, she explained shortly, and no State Alchemist, no matter how young, could be spared. Mustang and his team had already been there for some time. Her own brother had been forced to go against his will. Kimblee was granted special reprieve. And there were reports, disturbing reports, of certain individuals with abilities that defied rational explanation through alchemical laws; mercenaries or creators of chaos, with no clear allegiance, which didn't preclude the possibility that they were tools created by Father's hand.

Both Izumi and Hoehnhiem attempted to reason with Ed (to be accurate, the latter attempted to reason, and the former attempted to forbid) and persuade him not to go, to give up his title as State Alchemist and spare himself the hell of war and of the Gate. He remained firm, insisting,

"Until I've returned Al's body to him, my path is marked out for me."

When Al insisted on coming with him, Ed knew better than to argue with him, instead, making him agree to a single condition.

He was not to be a soldier. His brother was no one's cur.

* * *

In Ishbal, Ed lived and fought with a grim forbearance. His refusal to kill was at first admired, but as the weeks wore on and the Amestrian casualties rose in number, the soldiers grew disenchanted with Ed's habit of bringing prisoners back to camp. When the prisoners began to disappear, he simply stopped bringing them back, allowing the Ishbalans he defeated to retreat or leaving them unconscious on the shifting, broiling sands.

Ed witnessed Mustang change in Ishbal. His disappointment over the Fuhrer's seat remaining out of his grasp, and his humiliation in not even receiving a promotion from the rank of Colonel, congealed into something inhuman while at war. He displayed an unusual amount of interest in the new beings dubbed 'contractors', so named because they were believed to have been hired as mercenaries by the Ishbalans, and spent most of his time when he was not in combat poring over the sparse intelligence they had managed to gather on them.

Day was a hideous carnival of death, intrigue, fear, paranoia. Blood boiled and spat when it was spilt on the burning sand. Ed attempted to curtail any cold-blooded murder or monstrous abuses of power he witnessed, and was reprimanded more than once by the Colonel for it. "This is war," Mustang said coolly to him, the third time he had been summoned for striking a higher-ranking officer, as he pored over a map of the territory they had seized the previous day. "Kill, or be killed, Fullmetal."

"Raping women, murdering children, torturing prisoners – I don't see where the 'be killed' part of the equation fits in there."

Mustang raised his eyebrows mildly. "I haven't heard reports of anything of the sort."

"Of course they're not going to send you _reports_ on that, you fucking idiot! But it should be _obvious_ – "

Edward landed on his back from the blow, face stinging. As Mustang towered over him, the expression on his face was terrifyingly blank. It was then, for the first time, that he uttered the phrase that Ed heard him say at the outset of each subsequent mission to his soldiers:

"Die before you come back a coward."

He did not tell Al about the exchange. He told Al nothing. As he left Mustang's tent, he could hear the screams of a woman in the distance. They were caught on a choking desert wind, funneled into the boiling dunes of sand, and faded to nothing.

* * *

If day at war in Ishbal was hell's inferno, night was its frozen core. The nights at the edge of the Ishbalan desert were near-unbearably cold, dropping down well below freezing and then plunging into even lower temperatures. Though the enlisted soldiers slept huddled together in the underground bunkers, ever-ready against the threat of attack, Ed's pride and disgust at what many of the soldiers were capable of left him constructing his own shelter each night, transmuting a tent out of the surrounding sand and reinforcing the inside with cured animal hides. He wrapped his winter-issue automail in cloths, too, so that it did not chill him, and kept a small firepit with live coals near him. Bundled under the weight of many blankets, he fell with increasingly difficulty each night into an uneasy sleep, the nightmare visions of waking life playing behind his closed eyelids.

When he could not sleep – which was often – Ed chainsmoked, holding his breath in-between drags instead of taking the cigarette out of his mouth for fear of developing frostbite on his outstretched flesh hand. Al tried reading aloud to his brother, but this seemed to annoy the elder alchemist more than comfort or interest him.

One night, Ed was in a particularly black mood and had tried, unsuccessfully, for hours to sleep. At length, seeming at a loss for how else he could be of use to his brother, Al lumbered over on his hands and knees (because of the size of the tent) and, clapping, laid his palms on his own chest. The body of armor glowed briefly. Though Ed had started back at first, when Al lay down beside him he was shocked to feel that his brother's body was warm. After an initial hesitation, he lifted the pile of blankets and motioned for Alphonse to join him.

Al's existence, partially physical but very much spiritual, was all that sustained Ed through the Second War. He relied on the certainty of coming home each evening to his brother and dwelling in his presence. Al prepared his meals and bath, fussed over his wounds, forced him to sleep when he was brooding, and more than once had gone to confront the Colonel about allowing Ed to forego missions once in a while, when his sanity was pared down to a mere thread. Never once had he pressed Ed to speak of the horrors that he saw during the day, or demanded explanations for the nightmares which woke him yowling in terror during the night.

Once Al had made the mistake of trying to wake him from a particular intense nightmare with a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Ed had screamed in pain when the ice-cold armor touched his bare flesh, melding with his dream-visions to become the hand of Death, pulling him down into the Gate. He could not have hurt Al more if he had hit him outright; the implied rebuke sent his younger brother to his corner of the tent where he spent the night trying not to make noise as he turned the stiffened pages of an old alchemy text, reading.

Now, perhaps as a partial apology for that night, Ed allowed his brother to lie underneath his blankets. The alchemically-warmed metal suffused the air beneath the bedclothes with warmth, but still he trembled, though not only because he was cold.

* * *

The loneliness, too, was a feeling of cold. Though Al was incapable of physically 'feeling' cold, or even the sensations that went along with what was called 'loneliness' (a heaviness in the limbs, an aching in the chest, a nervousness in the throat) he still imagined, as he sat motionless as a pillar of stone, that his loneliness had made him 'cold.'

It was more appropriate, perhaps, to speak of 'sensations' than 'feelings' when it came to living within or through the armor. For it was true: though he had no proper organs of sense, his relation to the outside world was one of sensation.

He found that when he was quite still and did not concentrate – for example, when he was sitting pretending to 'sleep' – that one by one his 'senses' would shut down. First his vision would begin to narrow, and darken; then the small sounds around him would distort and fade; and finally, the dull pressure on his back and legs from the floor upon which he sat was replaced by a numbness, and then by nothing at all.

At this point, his existence seemed to cease, until something – some outside stimulus, usually his brother's voice – called him back to reality. He feared these moments, the state of passive, thoughtless non-being, and tried to avoid slipping into it as much as possible.

This was one of the reasons he so enjoyed sparring, since it was at those times, with the least amount of conscious determination, that all of his senses came alive. Once or twice he swore he could smell the river, or the newly cut grass, as Ed's automail foot whistled past his head – for a fleeting second, before he was engulfed in partial numbness again.

Alphonse had never discussed the particularities of his existence with his brother; not once, over the long years, had Edward initiated the conversation, and Al was too sensitive to his brother's feelings to do so himself. If there had been an opportunity to do so, it would have perhaps been when they nearly broke over Al's suspicions of being artificially created and Ed's fear of his brother's hatred and resentment. Yet that time had passed, and without either of them touching on the taboo subject. In fact, Winry happened to be the only person with whom Al had ever spoken about it.

It was during his brother's long period of recuperation, when Ed was often either too busy with a rigorous, self-imposed routine of physical therapy, or irritated and exhausted by the very same routine, and Al found himself with a good deal of free time. He found himself spending hours at Winry's side, watching her tune automail with interest and concentrating on bringing the minute details of wires and screws into 'focus.' (It was for the same reason that he spent hours flipping through books illustrated in color, trying to discern their gradations.)

"Al?" she'd inquired, softly, without turning to face him.

He drew himself to attention, the armor squeaking with his motion. "Mm?"

"If this is rude of me, please don't feel you have to answer. But, you've been watching me for so long…"

"I'm sorry," Al apologized automatically, mortified at his imposition. "I didn't mean to bother you, or make you feel odd – "

"No, no. That's not it at all." Gazing at the automail hip on her work-table, Winry smiled gently. "I just meant, you've been watching me every day. I'm glad for your company, and your interest. But how is it you've been watching me, when…"

A sickening, dropping sensation in his 'stomach.' He shifted a little, and the armor – his body – creaked again. He froze, hating the noise it made, and kept silent.

"Don't misunderstand! I think it's amazing. And maybe you don't know any more about it than I do. I was just curious." Still not looking directly at him, Winry shook her head. "What an idiot I am. I'm sorry I asked, Al. It's none of my business."

His concern for Winry's feelings overriding his brief self-loathing, Al protested, "No, it's only natural you'd wonder. But you're right. I don't have any more of an idea than you."

"Have you talked about it with Ed?"

"No." That was hard to admit, but the prospect of actually discussing the details of his condition with his brother was even more painful, knowing the amount of renewed guilt it would cause Ed. "He just seems to take it for granted." _Come to think of it…_

He remembered being disassembled, sucked into the endless spiral void of the Gate, and then, like the ocean vomits forth the detritus of sea-life, being funneled back into reality, his soul sucking itself down, filling out the whorls and spikes of the blood seal. Ed broken and bleeding and sobbing over his armor 'body', clutching it headless to him like a damaged toy, screaming his name over, and over, and over.

Perhaps it was Edward's implicit faith that Al's soul would not reside prone and mute in the object of the armor, but animate it with life. He only knew that once his soul suffused into the armor, he felt his brother's arms around him; heard his brother's cries; saw his brother's face. Birthed of Ed's repentance, and his sorrow.

"Anyway…" Finally, Winry looked over to him, and beamed brightly, blue eyes crinkling in genuine joy, "I'm just glad you're alive."

_Is this what you'd call being alive? _Unable to convey his gratitude for her trust in him silently, Al nodded, forcing a smile into his voice that he did not feel. "Me too."

Now, as he lay next to his brother, if he concentrated very carefully, he could 'see' – even in the near-darkness – Ed's silhouette. He could 'hear' the soft clicks of Ed's automail as he moved minutely, settling to sleep, and even 'feel' the motion of his brother's back rising and falling with his slow breathing. If he was very, very still, and focused with the full force of his mind, he could even feel his brother shivering against the breastplate of the armor. Against his chest.

Bolder than he dared, Al reached out and clumsily laid one arm over Ed, drawing his brother close. He heard and felt the sharp intake of breath, and then the motion of his older brother relaxing into his embrace, his body quieting. As he breathed in deeply, Al swore that he, too, had been holding his breath, and could feel his lungs expand with a solemn thrill, the depth of the love he felt for his brother. Ed moved again, sighing,

"Warm…"

He'd shifted around so that his face was resting against Al's chest, and the full length of his body was tucked against his younger brother.

_Ah…_

_Alive._

Tears running over cheeks swollen from crying. A salty film on his lips. An aching deep within the chest. Not phantom limb pain, exactly. Phantom desire.

_I am alive. _

Painfully, thankfully so.

Ed wouldn't stop shivering, and Al brought his attention to his brother, encircling him fully with broad, awkward arms. Though the range of the neck of the armor was limited, he craned it as much as possible, trying to obtain a better view of Edward's face. His brother's eyes were wide and haunted. This close to him, Al could finally make out nearly every detail of his face – the blurriness and streaks which usually clouded his vision had vanished.

"Al." The vibration of his name on his brother's against his armored body sent sparks racing through Al's metal limbs.

"Nii-san?" Attempting to convey a gentleness in his voice that would have not carried through the motion of his hulking armored limbs.

"I'm sorry."

Was his brother, face distorted by sorrow, weeping? No, his vision must be blurring again; and he cursed the limitations of his body, forgetting it was not what enabled him to see. "What for?"

The words forced their way up through his throat as if retched from his stomach, carrying the weight not only of his war crimes, but of his irrevocable sin. Of those, he could repent, but not for what he felt cradled in his brother's arms. "Please forgive me."

Speechless in the freezing night, Al nodded.


	6. Soul

The three made their way to the research laboratory quarters as quickly as possible. Hei had been blindfolded, which slowed their progress somewhat but was, Ed had argued with Al, a necessary precaution. He noticed that, although it was much cooler and smelled of mildew just as the lab he was taken to each day, the smell was distinctly different, and it seemed less damp in the corridors. As the odors of the underground area became stronger and the temperature dropped, Hei could sense Al prodding his brother to take Hei's blindfold off.

"We're almost there anyway."

Ed consented with minimal grumbling. Hei dropped the sleeve of Al's coat, which he had been holding in order to follow them, and rubbed at his eyes as they adjusted to the harsh fluorescent lights. They were in a narrow stone corridor. Here and there, dirty water pooled on the floor. It was quiet except for the sound of their footsteps.

Suddenly, from up ahead, an earsplitting scream broke the silence. Hei recognized the voice, strangled and distorted as it was, as Suou's. Ed and Al exchanged glances, then motioned for Hei to hurry.

Turning at the end of the corridor, Hei saw that a small cluster of soldiers had gathered around an open door. In this corridor there were cells, the iron-barred doors standing in sharp contrast with the modest, but cozy-looking furnishings within. Their occupants all looked interested in the noises coming from down the end of the hall, but with a few exceptions they were sitting or lying quietly, listening. Though a few cast glances in Hei's direction as the three hurried by, none said a word.

Hei felt Yin's presence, instinctively, before he saw her. The soldiers had taken her out of the room she'd apparently been sharing with Suou, and one of them was lightly restraining her by holding her hands behind her back. The contractor fought off a brief, fleeting urge to strike the man down and instead went to her side. She appeared unharmed except for a reddish-looking mark on her left cheek.

"Yin," said Hei, so that she would know he was there. She looked up, seeming to relax a little. The soldier holding her tensed until Al motioned at him to let her go.

Gently Hei took her hands in his, feeling how cold they were. "Yin."

"Hei."

Vaguely Hei was aware of Ed ordering the soldiers to stand down and let him through, and of Al's thoughtful gaze upon him. He ignored both of these things, squeezing Yin's fingers lightly. Her sightless eyes gleamed in the dark corridor as she turned her face blindly upward in gesture of fondness. He held her hands as tenderly as he could without fully embracing her, a confused knot of emotion twisting in the pit of his stomach.

Another scream from Suou shattered the air, and Hei was forced to turn his attention to her. Inside of the quarters, a couch had been overturned, a chair broken. Suou lay in the midst of it, ripping at her clothes, her face, her hair. Her expression was – there was no other word for it – demonic, her features split by a feral snarl. The noises which she produced did not seem human. Though Ed had dismissed the gaping soldiers – they now stood at attention against the wall opposite – he seemed at a loss as to what to do.

"She's hurting herself," Hei said, somewhat roughly. "Get in there and stop her!"

Ed seemed to snap back into it. "Right." Clapping his hands, he transmuted the bars apart, and Al followed him in. Cautiously they approached Suou, who showed no signs of acknowledging either of them.

Al motioned at the couch, and Ed nodded. Circling her, Ed clapped and then seized the couch while Al drew close to her and finally grabbed her wrists, holding her down while the fabric of the couch seemed to ripple itself outward, snakelike, then wind around her until she was firmly bound.

Al pulled his hands away as the transmutation finished, and supported Suou against him. Her expression went blank for a few seconds, and then her screams redoubled. Twisting herself as wildly as she could manage, her eyes began to glow blue.

Hei dropped Yin's hands and darted into the cell – one of the soldiers moved to stop him, but he evaded easily – and hit Suou on the back of the neck, sharply. Al watched in astonishment as she passed out.

"She was trying to access her ability," Hei explained as the soldier, who'd followed him into the quarters, restrained him. He made no move to resist. "She doesn't have an array on?"

"Let him go, Breda," Al said to the soldier. "You can leave; we have the situation under control."

The soldier tensed; Hei could sense his displeasure, but he released him, saluted briefly, and left. The other soldiers followed suit, though some peered into the room curiously as they left.

Ed shook his head, righting the couch and going on to repair the broken chair while he answered Hei. "No. We had removed all paper from her quarters – figured she wouldn't try to access her ability without the possibility of performing her remuneration. It works with all of the other contractors."

"She's just a child. She wasn't thinking rationally." _Wasn't thinking at all, probably._ Hei felt Yin draw close behind him, and he guided her to the repaired chair, helping her sit. "What's wrong with her?"

"No idea." Yet from the way the brothers glanced at each other, Hei could sense that there was something they weren't saying. "We've never seen this happen with a contractor before." Al had scooped Suou up and now gently laid her on the uprighted couch, transmuting the fabric away so that he could check her vital signs.

"Yin." Hei laid a hand on her shoulder. "What happened?"

The doll gazed downward, motionless, saying nothing. Hei touched her cheek where it shone a slight red. "Did she do this to you?"

Yin nodded slightly.

"Her pulse and breathing are slightly elevated, but nothing abnormal. Pupils are fine." Al rose as Ed took over with Suou. Hei watched as he pushed back her hair and began to trace with charcoal an array on her forehead, then unbuttoned her shirt to trace another on her breast, at the base of her neck. Meanwhile Al had come to Hei's side, and knelt down to address the doll.

"What were the two of you doing when she became like this?" Al asked. Hei was surprised that the young alchemist had known to ask a more direct question, and was even more surprised at his manner – gentle, calm, light. His tranquility, as well as his concern, seemed genuine. Yin seemed to sense it, too; Hei felt her relax further, although the outward, noticeable change was miniscule.

"Nothing." Though she seemed to finish speaking, Al neither said anything nor moved. After a short period of time passed, she continued, "Sitting and talking."

Al pressed further. "And then?"

Hei watched as Ed finished the arrays and then touched each of them several times. Suou's entire body glowed blue, the soft light crackling slightly as it intensified, and seemed to become transparent. He wanted to go over for a closer look, but suspected he would be chastised for unnecessary curiosity, and so satisfied himself by watching as closely as possible from the distance where he stood.

"Suou wanted to run away. I reminded her of Shion. Then Suou struck me. And she began to scream. Then the soldiers came." Yin halted, tense again, with no clear intention to continue. Hei touched one of her shoulders gently with his fingertips to let her know he was still there.

"Thank you, Yin." The younger brother turned to the elder. "Nii-san, what do you think?"

Ed had apparently finished whatever he'd been doing and was now rubbing the arrays off of Suou's skin with a piece of cloth, his brow knit in thought. From way his eyes darted uneasily in Hei's direction, the contractor could see that the older brother was reluctant to speak in his presence. If Al also noticed, he made no apparent motion, looking to his brother expectantly for his opinion.

"It seems that it's the same as before," Ed said, slowly. "Just one, in this case. Her brother's."

Al blanched slightly. "How is that possible? There were no alchemists present at the time…she hasn't been exposed to Hell's Gate…"

"I don't know. But she'll have to be hospitalized until it is resolved."

"We can't transmute it out by force. It's too great a risk."

"If we don't, someone else will be called to handle it. Tucker, probably." Ed spat the name – unknown to Hei – with malice, and Al grimaced. "If we're fortunate, we can call in a consultation for her; Master might be able to make it here on short notice. For now, I'm going to go to the hospital wing and have arrangements made for her care."

Al nodded in agreement and Ed left, swinging the door shut behind him. Hei allowed a few moments to pass before asking,

"What's wrong with Suou…is related to Shion?"

Leaning on an arm of the couch and casting a glance over the young contractor lying prostrate, Al sighed. "It's…complicated."

"I can be patient." When Al glanced over at him, Hei narrowed his eyes slightly. "I want to know what's wrong with her. As much as you can tell me."

Al rubbed his head. "You probably know more than I do, actually."

"What do you mean?"

The alchemist shrugged. "All we know about her and her brother is that they're contractors. Their abilities, their remunerations – that's all. And our knowledge of contractor physiology is sparse as it stands, which is why we're conducting research in the first place. So we don't really have an explanation for why her brother's soul has come to reside within her body."

Not what he had been expecting; not even close. "She's possessed?"

"In a manner of speaking. There are two souls in her body, and they're fighting for possession of her. Based on Nii-san's readings, it's most likely her brother's soul. What you saw was the initial reaction as they both struggled for control of her body." Al regarded the unconscious Suou with something like tenderness.

"Something like that…is possible?" Hei feigned ignorance in the hopes he could collect more information than he currently had. The task was not a difficult one, since his scope of knowledge was limited to the horrors he had witnessed in Ishbal; grotesques which, confronted in battle, needed no explanation, but in peacetime defied classification into conventional systems of knowledge. Passing his gaze over Al's openly worried face, he temporarily discarded the possibility that the brothers had engineered the situation themselves, but did not confer any such optimism to the Colonel or his men.

Al shook his head. "Yes. But only through the use of alchemy; or, that's as far as we know of it. It's possible, if they had been brought into physical contact with the Gate – "

"No. They were born in Drachma, and until they were taken into my custody had never left the country."

"Could it have something to do with their abilities?"

Hei shrugged. "They produce rifles. That's all I've ever seen them do."

"Then there's no easy explanation. The important thing is that she becomes well. Two souls can't live in one body peacefully without some compromise. That, we can help with, even if we're ignorant of the cause." Al seemed distracted, sunken in thought, as he stared off in the general direction of Suou's face. "Once I was like that."

Silence. Sensing that he needed to tread carefully, Hei took advantage of the time to glance around the room. The sofa, the chair, a small table, a desk, the bed. A cabinet in the corner, several buckets in another. The only thing missing seemed to be a kitchen or toilet; strange. Finally he returned his attention to Al. "What happened?"

Not looking Hei in the eye – a strange gesture, for him – Al smiled faintly and said, "It's a tired-out story already." Clapping, he transmuted the fabric that had served as Suou's bonds into a blanket over her, and sighed. "Maybe some other time."

Suou stirred. Hei tensed, ready to restrain her if necessary, but Al motioned for him to relax and instead got up and crouched down by her head so that he was on the same level as her. As she opened her eyes, he smiled at her. "Hello, Suou."

Her eyes seemed curiously blank, but she recognized him and nodded back in greeting. "Hi."

"How do you feel?"

"Tired. Sore." She stretched a little, then sat up slowly. "What happened?" Noticing Hei, her eyes widened. "Why are you here?"

"I've been staying with the brothers," Hei explained. "They took me to see you." She looked as if she wanted a hug, but he remained standing where he was, observing her with more than a touch of coolness in his manner.

Al pressed her, as he had with Yin. "Suou, what do you remember before waking up?"

She rubbed at her face and hair. "I was sitting here with Yin, talking. Then I was waking up on the couch. Why? What's going on?"

"Oho, you're up." At the door, Ed was gesturing for a stretcher to be wheeled in by several attendants. "I guess we didn't need this after all."

Immediately Suou was on the defensive, her eyes darting warily from one brother to the other. "Where are you taking me? I won't go."

"How can you say that when you don't know where you're going?" Ed asked, reasonably. She did not appear to be comforted. Al rose and gestured to his brother.

"Nii-san, I think it would be best if we gave the three of them some time to talk in private."

"Hm." Hei met Ed's gaze as the younger man pondered the idea. "Alright. We'll be down the corridor. Five minutes, got it?"

Hei forced a small smile. "Got it."

* * *

Waiting was a tedious business. Al dismissed the orderlies and then filled his brother in on the conversation he'd had with Li. His older brother looked at him in disbelief.

"You actually told him?"

"No. I just mentioned it." Al tilted his head to the side, gauging Ed's reaction. "It's not as if it's a secret we need to keep."

"I guess not. I don't see how it's relevant, though."

"That's why I didn't say any more." Thinking of how much he _had_ wanted to tell Li made him slightly uneasy. "Did you find out anything about our master?"

"I stopped by the personnel office on my way back down. It seems she's still up at Northern Headquarters, so I had them call her for me. If she's unable to come, then…" Ed looked like he wanted to spit. "We'll have to work with Tucker, I guess."

"If we keep a close eye on him, it should be fine."

"It doesn't matter how close of an eye we keep," Ed argued. "In the end it will come down to a choice of how to exorcise the brother's soul out of her, and whether or not to try and retain it. Either way it necessitates the use of some form of killing – the brother, or a host – unless we affix it to something inanimate. And we can't responsibly do that, either." He looked pointedly at his younger brother with his last sentence.

"I know." Al paused. "But if she's able, Master will come up with a solution."

"We'll see."

The brothers fell silent, and some time passed. Ed tapped his automail hand on the aluminum part of the stretcher, and the hollowing clicking noise it made echoed down the corridor.

"I saw Hughes upstairs in the infirmary," he said, haltingly.

"Was he visiting – ?"

"Yeah." Taking his hand from the stretcher, Ed held it to his forehead briefly. Through the glove he always wore outside of their quarters, he could feel its coldness. In his hand, though, he could barely feel the pressure of his forehead brushing against it. He pressed harder, and felt it a little more. Cursing inwardly at himself for his foolishness, he put the hand back down and continued, "I worried a little…about putting the girl up there with him."

Al nodded. "He'll know that she's a contractor, even if we don't tell him."

"Well, she's obviously not a doll." Ed thought of Suou's angry outburst on the first night she'd been brought in. "We could try to arrange for Gracia to be moved."

"I don't think he'll do anything rash," Al said, thinking it over. "She's only a girl, after all."

Ed shrugged, turning so that his brother could not read his features. Neutrally, he replied, "No one can tell what people can become capable of."

Down the corridor, Li stuck his head out, and when he caught sight of the brothers, he smiled.

"We're all done," he called. "Let's go."

* * *

Ed marveled inwardly at the change in Suou as he and Al led the two contractors, now both blindfolded, upstairs to the hospital wing. Holding Li's hand, she came quietly. She'd given no protest, either, upon being separated from the doll, aside from a prolonged hug and a pained expression.

When they arrived, however, it was not only Hughes they found at Gracia's bedside. The infirmary was small, meant as it was for the treatment of dolls and contractors in that research block only, and the available beds were empty at the moment with the exception of Gracia's. Hearing multiple voices from within, Al paused before opening the door, looking to his older brother for a sign of what to do.

"You can take your blindfolds off," Ed told Suou and Li. As they complied, he cracked open the door, attempting to peer inside. He misjudged its hinges, however, and it swung open, making it necessary for them to go in. As they did so, both brothers recognized the figures of Shou Tucker and Hawkeye, standing at the foot of Gracia's bed. Hughes was where he had been previously, apparently sunken in thought, sitting in a chair next to his wife. Ed gestured at the bed nearest to the door, and they approached it, trying to be quiet.

Under his breath, Al addressed his older brother: "Who let him know…?"

"I don't know. Just ignore him." Ed drew the partitioning curtain shut as Al and Li helped Suou into the bed. "We'll stay with her until he's gone."

Suou looked up. Her eyes were slightly blank, but she'd clearly been listening and watching. "Who is it?"

"Another alchemist," Al reassured her, but his censored explanation managed to explain next to nothing. Ed drew back the curtain a little, watching, as Li settled Suou in the bed, helping her under the sheets and pouring her a glass of water from the carafe from a nearby rolling table.

"She's the wife of a military official," they heard Hawkeye inform Tucker, her voice impossibly cold.

"Not anymore, she isn't," Tucker protested. Grasping his right shoulder in his left hand in a bizarre paroxysm of excitement, he fairly glowed. "Not anymore! She's research material, now…"

"I believe you've used up your quota for this research quarter, _Major_ Tucker," Hawkeye countered. "Now, if you will please leave the infirmary. There are patients who need their rest."

Though Hughes said nothing, Ed noted the shudder which ran through his frame.

Dissatisfied, Tucker whirled and drew back the curtain fully in order to address Al. "What about you, Fullmetal? Going to use that little one I saw you bring in earlier, or can I – "

"Fuck off," Ed growled from his seat. "Don't make me kick your ass out of here."

Adopting a wounded expression, and faced with three stony glares, Tucker finally slunk off.

As the door shut behind him, Ed exchanged a glance of disbelief with his brother. Addressing Hawkeye, he demanded, "What was that about?"

Only Hawkeye's eyebrow twitched as she glanced back at Hughes. Understanding, Ed directed his attention elsewhere. "And where is that damn doctor? We'll be back," he said to Al, and motioned for Li to come with him.

"Are you alright?" Al asked Suou in a low voice. She seemed uneasy to see Li go, but nodded at his inquiry, and even favored him with a small smile.

"For now, I'm fine."

Satisfied, Al drew the curtain shut again and hesitantly made his way to Gracia's bedside. Hughes now had his face in his hands and weeping soundlessly. Hawkeye stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders. As Al prepared to leave them in private again, she looked up and shook her head just slightly, seeming to say, _No, stay_.

Al sat at the foot of Gracia's bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. The woman lay absolutely still. Her breathing motions were minute, but steady; yet she was not asleep. Her large blue eyes, once animated and full of life, now stared blankly up at the ceiling. She gave no notice that her husband sat weeping beside her, or that friends were in her presence. Her affect was as flat as a doll's.

There were ways to create dolls through alchemy, Al knew, but most of them were naturally occurring; that is, spontaneous occurrences since the bringing forth of the Gate into the world, in which (it was thought) almost all of the soul of a person was taken into the Gate, while their body, and a superfluous consciousness, remained behind. Thinking of Yin, the first doll he had seen emote and communicate meaningfully, Al wondered if Gracia's situation was as desperate as it seemed.

He could not comfort Hughes with any of this speculation, he knew, and remained silent.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," Hawkeye said, at length and gently. "Alphonse Elric is here."

Drawing a deep breath, Hughes nodded, lifting his head. Respectfully, Hawkeye dropped her hands and moved back to allow him to regain control of himself. "I'm sorry. It's good to see you, Al."

"It's you to see you too, Mr. Hughes," Al replied, with warmth. "How is Miss Gracia feeling?"

Hughes' vacant gaze returned to his wife. "Well," he said, "or so the doctor tells me. She still hasn't spoken."

Al struggled with various replies: _That's normal, for a doll_, or, _No? Nothing yet?_ or _Yes, I see_, but none seemed correct. He noticed while trying to decide that Hughes' gaze had lifted behind him a second before he sensed someone behind him, and twisting he saw that it was Suou.

Standing, he admonished softly, "You shouldn't be out of bed," but she gave him an apologetic, wide-eyed look.

"I wanted to see…"

"Hello," Hughes said, sounding a bit like his old self. He smiled wanly at Suou, clearly trying to be friendly.

"Mr. Hughes, this is Suou," Al introduced them. Suou leaned over to shake Hughes' hand over Gracia's bed, and her eyes widened.

"Is this your doll?"

"Suou," Al said gently.

"Gracia is my wife," Hughes explained.

Suou nodded in satisfaction. "That's right."

"That's right?" he echoed, smiling again, not without a painful hesitation.

"She's not just a doll," Suou said, and now (Al found himself start a bit as she did it, but none of them moved to stop her) she reached out and took hold of Gracia's hand, holding it in both of hers, and stroking it gently. "She's not a thing. She's a person, even if her outside doesn't move very much anymore. She's probably very sad, just like you, Mr. Hughes." As she held Gracia's hand, she motioned for Hughes to do the same. "She's lonely! She wants you to hold her in your arms."

Hughes laughed, a painful sound which seemed to have been wrenched from him, but seeing that she was serious, her eyes wide and honest, awkwardly he leaned forward and took Gracia's other hand. Seconds later, he went as white as a sheet.

"Mr. Hughes?" Al asked, with concern.

"She squeezed," he said dreamily, but his once vacant eyes were now firmly fixed on his wife's face. "You squeezed my hand, didn't you?"

Suou let her hand drop as Hughes slipped his arm under his wife's shoulders, holding her with an expression of wonder. "Gracia," he said softly, "Gracia."

Al felt Hawkeye's eyes on him, and taking Suou's hand, the three of them retreated behind the white curtain to Suou's bed. She yawned as she crawled into it, stating matter-of-factly, "This one is much better than the one downstairs."

"Suou," Al said quietly. "Did you do something to Miss Gracia?"

Perplexed, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Do? What did I do?"

The alchemist shook his head, smiling a little to show her he wasn't angry. "You didn't do anything wrong. Thank you."

She gave one short nod. "People aren't things. Hei taught me that."

Leaving Suou's bedside, and wondering on her last comment – _Hei?_ – Al joined Hawkeye, who was standing so that she could just see around the edge of the curtain. Hughes was weeping again, this time with joy as he caressed his wife, and her body, motionless for so long, started to respond to him.

"That girl is a contractor?" Hawkeye wondered quietly, but nevertheless aloud.

Al found himself smiling with something like pride, his heart twisting happily as he watched Gracia slowly focus her eyes on her husband for the first time in over a month. "Yes."

* * *

As they scoured the halls for sign of the infirmary's doctor, blindfold forgotten, Hei silently processed the information he'd obtained in the past hour or so. He was glad of his opportunity to speak with Yin and Suou – the latter, especially, seemed in better sorts for it – and the way in which Ed was apparently attempting to reconcile with him. Figuring he'd push his luck, he inquired as they walked:

"That man from before, 'Major Tucker.' He's not just an alchemist, is he?"

Ed laughed hollowly. "No, he's 'just' an alchemist. That's bad enough without there being anything else." Some time passed, but Hei did not push further. Finally, when they stopped at an elevator, Ed continued, almost as if talking to himself, "He's a monster. His research breeds monsters. It's disgusting."

"Why is he permitted to conduct such research?" Hei noted that he was slipping into a cold, indifferent tone, and reined himself back in. "Or is it only you who thinks this way?"

Shooting him an angry glance, Ed replied, "No one outside of the military knows. And no one inside is willing to have his job."

"Mm." Though a series of responses rose to his lips, Hei refrained from further comment. Silence fell again. A group of junior officers passed by, and then:

"The girl will be safe. And we'll find a way to make her well." Shaking off an expression of uneasiness, Ed met Hei's eyes, and the latter was surprised by a glowing intensity there that he had yet to see in the face of the older brother. "I swear it to you."

Again Hei found himself fighting a strange feeling of fondness – now, for both Al and Ed. Reminding himself of his mission, he bowed slightly.

"Thank you."


	7. Work

After a few days of smeared grey skies and freezing temperatures, the clouds had loosed their burdens. Snow was falling on Central. Walking through it gingerly, Mao shook off his paws every few steps, his hackles curling at the cold sensation on his soft pads.

Although there was now only the lightest dusting over the city streets, the rate at which was falling – thick and fast, so much so that the once-black cat now looked white – indicated that there would be a fair amount by morning.

Hurrying along, Mao pictured curling up next to the oven, drowsing over a bowl of warm milk_. I might have to nip Hei to get it_, the contractor thought, and twitched his whiskers. Living as the Elric's cat for most of the past few weeks had made him decidedly more cat-like, and though he would have been loath to admit it, he now enjoyed the sensations of being scratched behind the ears; of being held on a lap. It had been years since someone had touched him for an extended period of time – as cat, or as contractor – and he was slowly re-learning, at the not small cost of some of his pride, the pleasures of touch.

"Here, kitty, kitty."

Mao tensed. The cold and the snow had blanketed the city in a peculiar silence, where the smallest sounds were greatly amplified, but even in that atmosphere he had heard nothing except the crunching of his paws on the snow. Certainly he'd not heard anyone approach_. I must have been deeper in thought than I imagined. _

Taking a quick stock of his surroundings, he was about to seek refuge in the small space underneath a garbage bin when he was seized by the scruff of the neck and shaken like a piece of laundry. Snarling, he clawed helplessly while the person who had caught hold of him regarded him thoughtfully. Upon recognizing the face, Mao's eyes went wide. The face curled into a nasty smile.

"Well, hello there."

* * *

The days that followed presented a new routine. Li went to work with Ed (and occasionally Al, depending on the type of research on which the brothers were working), who stopped dutifully each day at the infirmary so that Li could check in on Suou. All were gratified to see that she was doing well; and, more importantly, to see the close bond she was forming with Gracia and Hughes. Eventually, when Hughes approached the Colonel and the brothers for permission to take both Suou and Gracia home, neither could deny him.

"As long as she's kept calm, there should be no danger of another episode," Izumi assured Ed over the phone from a train station. She was in transit, making her way to Central to provide Suou with an in-depth examination. "If she wants to go with them, equip her with an array and let her go."

Mustang was not overly pleased with the arrangement – it meant Suou would be the only contractor residing legally outside of the military base – but he was unable to refuse his closest friend's request, especially as he took note of the new vigor in Hughes' manner; the fresh gleam in his eyes.

When the day came for their release from the infirmary, Suou wriggled with excitement as Al gently reminded her to hold still, tracing over her array. "Will I be able to help Gracia cook for you when we get home, Maes? Hei taught me a lot about cooking."

Ed and Al exchanged a surprised glance. "_Maes?_" Ed repeated lowly.

Hughes displayed no signs of being disturbed at Suou's familiar term of affection, smiling at her as he helped Gracia into a cardigan. "Of course you will."

Al leaned back, patting Suou gently on the shoulder. "It's done."

Suou hopped down from the bed, and then seemed to pause. Showing her first sign of uncertainty, she turned to Li. "Is it all right that I'm leaving?"

All eyes in the room flicked over to Li. The contractor closed his eyes briefly and smiled, close-lipped. "Of course it's all right."

Seized by a happy impulse, Suou rushed to him and hugged him tightly. "Thank you."

Ruffling her hair, Li's smile did not waver, but Al sensed a hesitation he could not name.

* * *

Gradually Hei observed that he was being granted more permissions, a greater expanse of freedoms. He accompanied one or both of the brothers down to the research facilities every day, for at least half of the day; always they asked him what he preferred, never imposing orders. Though he was not permitted to observe their work with 'subjects' – other contractors – he was not idle during the time they spent in that capacity. Instead they allowed him to visit with Yin. Usually the two just sat in silence during that time, but Hei enjoyed it nonetheless. It calmed and centered him, and was ample time for thought and reflection out from under either brother's eyes.

Hei had never particularly been able to relate to Suou outside of the realm of a responsibility he felt obligated to fulfill, and so he quietly accepted her adoption by the military official and his doll – _wife_, he corrected himself absently. Apparently they'd once had a child, he learned from Al, but no longer. He had gathered this, along with some other valuable information, one day, washing dishes.

A quiet afternoon. As the days became colder, Mao spent more and more of his time inside, curled up by the stove. On this afternoon, Hei, having elected to wash dishes after spending the morning with Yin in her quarters, and concerned that he would absently step on Mao's tail, flicked water at the cat until he retreated, hissing, to the living room. Once he was gone, Hei relaxed.

He liked the rhythm, the meaningless repetition, of dish-washing. Unlike cooking, which required thought, considerate deliberation, washing dishes involved one purpose and a few finite motions. He was able to let the thread of his thinking unravel without having to reel it back in, and it was pleasant to let his mind wander –

– to a certain extent. Seized in the grip of a particularly painful memory, Hei paused while scrubbing a pot. The sound of the running water flowed into his ears, suddenly causing him to become hyper-aware of his senses: the pruny rivulets forming on his fingers; the sour aftertaste of coffee on his tongue; and now, the sound of footsteps next to him, suggestive of a presence. Gathering himself, Hei lifted his head and gave Al a brief smile. The young alchemist smiled back, hopping up on the counter next to Hei and offering,

"Can I help?"

"Sure. Take the dishrag from behind you and you can dry these and put them away."

Al nodded. They worked for several minutes in silence, Al stretching up from his perch to put away the dishes. Finally he ventured,

"This morning, while you were with Nii-san, I visited Mr. Hughes' house."

"Oh? How are they all doing?"

"Very well. They seem really happy." Al paused, running the dishrag over the face of a plate. "Suou and Mrs. Gracia have become very close. I even heard them speaking to one another. Mr. Hughes says that Suou is the only one Mrs. Gracia has spoken with yet."

"Suou has a particular way with dolls," Hei acknowledged. "She believes deeply in their humanity."

"So do I, but I don't think I've ever been able to build trust with any of the dolls I know."

"It helps if you interact with them outside of a laboratory setting. That goes for anyone, not just dolls."

"Maybe we should have Yin over for dinner sometime," Al said, contemplatively.

Hei smiled at the lather he was forming, picturing Yin's reaction. "She'd like that."

"Anyway," continued Al, "it's good for Suou to be out of the infirmary, I know that. It was a rare opportunity to study the case of a child contractor, but it wouldn't have been healthy for her."

"It's good that you recognize that, I think."

"And for the first time, I think Mr. Hughes is finally starting to overcome his grief for Elysia." Startled out of his reverie by Hei's eyes on him, Al shook his head, embarrassed. "Oh…that was their daughter. She was much younger than Suou, but in any case it's progress to have a child in the house again."

"Oh? Has Elysia…"

"Yes."

"I see." Hei fell silent, scrubbing at a blackened, stubborn pan. "The death of someone young is a heavy burden to bear."

Al eyed him, setting aside his drying.

Unexpectedly, even to himself, Hei explained, "I had a younger sister, once." The words felt forced, choked. _Why say anything?_

Because Al's quietly plaintive gaze reminded him of Bai's? Because the whole situation was –

More than he'd planned on. More than he'd bargained for. He'd been perfectly ready to sit in prison; to allow all manner of experiments performed upon him; to undergo rigorous interrogation; he had not been prepared for kindness, a semblance of control over his own life, regular and genuine human contact. A comforting routine. His guard had slipped. No; he'd _let_ it slip.

Al's gaze hadn't left his face. "What happened?"

This was wrong. He was the one supposed to be obtaining information. Hei shook his head, as if to clear it. "She died. Over a year ago. An accident." He returned his attention to the pan, then started at Al's hand on his shoulder.

The young alchemist's light eyes were full of sympathy. "I'm sorry."

Stiffly, Hei nodded, and Al let his hand drop. Clearing his throat, he absorbed himself in drying out a cup. Neither said anything, until finally Hei sensed that he needed to smooth over the awkwardness that had developed between them.

"You remind me of her, actually. She was an honest, pure-hearted kind of person." Hei smiled. "I was the grumpy, overprotective older brother."

"Grumpy? Overprotective? That's _my_ older brother," Al protested. "To be fair to Nii-san, though, he wasn't always this way. When I returned to my body, he got much worse. Now he's finally mellowing out, I think."

Another pause. "I'm not sure I follow that," Hei said carefully.

Al sighed and set down the dishrag again. "I'll start from the beginning."

As Al related his and his brother's story, Hei observed the frankness and simple candor with which Al spoke. Though the story was alternately terrible and fantastic, he seemed to exaggerate nothing; likewise, nothing seemed omitted. Hei found part of himself marveling while the other part registered the slow completion of the halfway knowledge he'd constructed, filling in the gaps where he'd somehow sensed that the brothers had known genuine struggle and pain, and experienced something which set them apart from most people. The only time Al faltered was when he was telling the story of how he had returned to his body. He explained that they had researched and then taken the advantage of visiting Hell's Gate, hoping that it would aid them in their quest, and then trailed off before beginning again.

"It was our father's idea. Our father sacrificed himself for my sake," Al said, and then paused.

_The father undoing the sin which he had visited upon his children. Poetic_, Hei thought, _but unlikely._ _And unfortunately, the burden of my sins are no one's responsibility but my own, with no father to absolve them._ "Obviously, his sacrifice was not in vain."

"Yes. But our father was lost, and I…" He trailed off. "My soul was not the only inhabitant in my body. We had to fight – my brother and I – to keep from losing my body again." Hei had not yet seen Al's face so vacant before. "In a strange way, it brought us closer, or revealed to us a closeness that had always existed between us. But for that, too, we suffered. And my brother still doesn't have his limbs back. I haven't given up yet, though it's been getting harder to maintain any realistic hope. Especially with what happened recently…" Seemingly distracted off his original train of narration, Al sighed, and a bit of color and life seemed to return to his face. "Someday, I'll tell you the whole story. For now…I should be getting back to work, or Nii-san'll have my hide."

Hei nodded, shutting off the water and giving Al the fondest smile he could permit himself. He felt respect deepening for both brothers, though inwardly he kept alit, like the glow of a distant street-lamp, caution; it was this caution that both forbid him from talking further about Bai, and which prompted him to take advantage of Al's vulnerable state in order to seize the opportunity of poring over the alchemical texts with which Al was working. "Shall I dictate for you?"

Al favored him with a small smile. "I'd like that."

* * *

On the night that snow fell, the cat did not return to the Elric's quarters. Early in the morning, Al crept out of the bedroom to check if it had come back, and reluctantly closed the window when he saw that it had not. He lingered at the window, watching the falling snow with fascination.

"I can let him in when he shows up," Li offered. Al turned, dismayed that he had woken the contractor. Li was lying in the strange-looking bed Ed had transmuted for him from the couch, his head propped up in his hand. He smiled wryly at Al. "Don't worry, I wasn't sleeping."

Al nodded his thanks, and offering a contrite, "Sorry," padded back to bed. He felt badly that Li would have to wake up again to let the cat in, but he was tired.

But the cat did not come back.

* * *

The next morning, both brothers were woken by a loud pounding on the door of their quarters. Staggering out, Ed stretched. When he noticed that breakfast was already served, he collapsed into one of the chairs at the table in favor of answering the visitor, calling,

"Hey Al, get the door. I'm about to eat."

Li came out of the kitchenette with another plate of sausages. "I can answer it."

"Thanks. This looks delicious, by the way."

The contractor grinned. "Thank you." Carefully balancing the plate, he opened the door.

"Good morning, Elrics." Though she saluted impatiently, Kirihara's face was not amused. "Did you forget you had cleanup today?"

Ed shrugged, tearing into a biscuit. "How bad could it possibly be?"

"We got _four_ feet last night," she ground out. "It's already seven. We have several delivery trucks and military vehicles completely snowed in, not to mention the low grade panic in some of the more isolated areas of the city – "

Half-listening, Ed waved her into silence. "I got it. Good thing I got my automail tuned."

Al poked his head out of the bedroom. "Are we going out?"

"Apparently."

"Yes!" Emerging from the bedroom, Al revealed that he had already clothed himself appropriately for the weather in a thick coat, boots, gloves, scarf and hat. "It's my first snow, since," he explained to Li, glowing.

Li smiled as if he understood. "Shall I house-sit, then?"

"No, you have to come!" Al gave Ed a vaguely pleading look. "Nii-san?"

"Why not? The more, the quicker." Ed shuddered. "I hate this snow nonsense."

Tearing off one glove by clamping one finger between his teeth, Al filled his pockets with food as Kirihara growled at them to leave. Finally Ed managed to wave her off, leaving a sheet with a list of duties and a verbal stinging retort in her wake. While Ed and Li dressed, Al ate what he couldn't put in his pockets quickly, gazing out of the window at the snow. It coated the ground like a clean blanket, the sun reflecting dazzlingly off of it, and though it was not an unfamiliar sight to the young alchemist, the idea of feeling it on his skin was strange and exhilarating, a sensation he had not felt in years.

* * *

Outside, the city was quiet, the sun steadily climbing over the buildings, casting long but quickly dissipating shadows. They left the military complex and made their way to the broad thoroughfare which connected it to the city.

Al laughed quietly as his brother struggled not to show how inconvenienced he was by the height of the snow, his face betraying his disgruntled attitude. In contrast, the younger brother sank both of his arms into it, scooping it up to touch his cheeks. Cold, but somehow with a fierce heat. Al was seized with a desire to fling himself completely into it and roll around, feel it fold over him and buckle beneath him. He noticed Li's bemused gaze at his evident delight and colored slightly. He cleared his throat and said firmly,

"We should get started." Without waiting for his brother, he clapped and pushed his hands deep into the snow until they reached the ground. The heat of the transmutation surged through his palms and vibrated through the street below. At first it seemed that nothing had happened, but as Al withdrew and stood up, the snow suddenly seemed to collapse in on itself. For the length of the entire street upon which they stood, as far as they could see, half of it disappeared, the other half relocating itself to the sides of the thoroughfare, in the space between street and sidewalk. Al looked to his older brother for approval, and Ed nodded, shaking the remaining snow from his boots.

"Well done."

Li was gaping in plan astonishment. "How do you…?"

"It's simple. About half gets transmuted to water vapor. The rest is just moved. It's quicker than a plow, and cleaner, too," Al explained as they headed toward the military garages to free the trucks and other vehicles. A man stuck his head out of his window and called his thanks as Ed knelt briefly to clear the sidewalk.

"Is this part of your job?"

Al laughed. "In peacetime, yes."

Over the next few hours, as the sun rose, Al had little time to enjoy himself. He and Ed worked tirelessly, clearing first major streets and sidewalks and then moving on to individual requests made by citizens who were faced with particular difficulties posed to them by the snow, such as doctors who needed their vehicles to make housecalls, or elderly women with no family to dig them out. Li helped with what he could, usually managing to shovel a walk or two in the time it took for the brothers to clear an entire street. He soon found himself called upon to make minor repairs, run errands, commiserate and gossip with a motley assortment of the city's people, and performed these tasks without complaint. Ed, on the other hand, cursed colorfully whenever he was out of earshot of bystanders, and once when Al threw a snowball at him, threatened to transmute him inside of a block of solid ice. Aside from his worry over the missing cat, Al was the happiest he'd been in a long time.

Though it was the first time he'd been outside of the military complex since his capture weeks previous, Hei found his attention drawn to the brothers as they moved steadily through the city, restoring order to the snowbound streets. Though he had been worried about Mao's absence, Hei's spirit felt unconcerned as he threw snowballs at Al and at a grumpy Ed as well, and cheerfully went about assisting citizens. It was at these times that he was able to forget, if only briefly, his past, his purpose, his mission, and he enjoyed it until he realized what was happening.

Finally, around noon, it seemed that their work was drawing to a close. "Another alchemist will take over soon," Ed explained to Hei. "Then we can go home and get out of this mess."

"Nii-san, I heard that in the park they're organizing some games for the children," Al suggested carefully. His older brother gave him a slightly disgusted look, but shrugged.

"Do as you like, as long as you're careful. I'm going home."

Al grinned, unfazed. "Okay."

"Hey!" Their attention was drawn to a man waving from the side of the road. "Can any of you help me start my car?"

"I'll do it," Hei volunteered.

"We'll be down the street, clearing the sidewalks, and then we're moving over," Ed called as they moved away.

* * *

The job was relatively simple, though Hei found himself instinctively itching to jumpstart the man's car by accessing his ability. When he had finished and started to follow the brothers, he was surprised to notice Mao at the entrance to an unplowed alleyway. The cat said nothing, but turned and made his way through the snow as best he could, Hei following.

"You've been gone since last night. Shouldn't you be inside?" Hei asked Mao once they had retreated far enough into the alley so as to go unnoticed. "Ed and Al were concerned." Suddenly he noticed Mao's bedraggled fur, a defeated look in his eyes. "Mao…"

"Hei, the next house…"

The contractor lifted a brow. "What?"

"It's a job. Since Yin won't be able to help, they're making use of a doll in hiding nearby." Mao coughed. "You'll be given your instructions at that time."

A pause. Silence, broken only by the distant playful shouting of the children in the streets.

"We forgot ourselves," Hei said, almost too quietly to hear.

Lashing his tail in a mixture of irritation and embarrassment, Mao curled one hackle. "It seems that way."

"Li!" Suddenly Al appeared in the entrance to the alleyway. "There you are. We have one house left, and then Nii-san said we could go into the park. There's an ice skating rink, or we could sled…" Catching sight of Mao, he grinned widely. "You found Shadow?"

"Have I been given a name?" Mao muttered under his breath.

"They decided on it last night while you were out." Hei bent and scooped the cat up under his belly, walking toward Al.

"Is he cold? I could take him home." Al reached out and petted Mao on the head, eliciting a reluctant purr.

"I think he'll be fine," Hei assured him. "I'll keep him inside my coat."

"Alright."

Ignoring the ugly glare Mao was giving him, Hei unbuttoned the outer coat he was wearing and tipped him inside. The cat sank his claws into Hei's side briefly to demonstrate his displeasure, but finally settled down, muttering darkly under his breath.

They came to the end of the alley and Al pointed down the street. "It's that house on the end." Ed was already there, standing on the porch and talking with a man Hei assumed to be the owner.

"Sorry. Look, Li found Shadow."

Ed rolled his eyes, softening only at his younger brother's disappointed glance. "We should get started. Mr. Simon says that he has a thick sheet of ice out back. In the meantime – " he gestured at a shovel lying on the walk. "Li, could you shovel out front? It shouldn't take very long."

"That's fine." Hei took up the shovel without complaint. He did not look to or address the proprietor, biding his time.

* * *

Out back, Mr. Simon gestured at the ice, frozen over what looked like a wooden porch.

Laying his hands on it, Ed's face reflected his surprise. "This ice is incredibly thick."

"Ah…" Mr. Simon shrugged in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his head. "We had a flooding problem right before the freeze came."

"Still, I don't see how the temperature would have allowed for – "

"Nii-san," Al hissed in a low voice, clearly noticing Mr. Simon's discomfort. "It doesn't matter how it got that way. Let's just start working on it."

"OK, I've got it." Ed smiled at the blond man. "We'll take care of it! Please don't worry yourself."

Mr. Simon looked relieved. "Thank you. If you need any assistance, I'll be out front, shoveling the walk." He smiled again, bowed, and took his leave.

Feeling the ice bite his flesh knee through his pants, Ed started tracing an array, then stopped. "Li and that cat of yours…"

Al nodded, bending to examine his brother's work. "Helping with the front, like you asked."

"Oh? Good."

* * *

"Ah, it looks wonderful. Won't you take a break, and have some of my wife's hot chocolate?" Hei lifted his head from shoveling, catching sight of the house's owner with his head sticking out of the front door. He was shivering slightly, and gestured for Hei to hurry. As he leaned his shovel against the house, Mao, who had escaped Hei's jacket and perched himself on one of the windowsills, said,

"It's him. You have five minutes."

Hei appraised the man as he picked his way up the icy front steps. Though a wide smile was stretched across his face, his forehead relaxed and open, Hei detected a coolness in the corners of the mouth, a slight tension in the jaw, and a definite blankness in the eyes. _Contractor._

Once inside, the man directed him to the kitchen, where several mugs of hot liquid were arranged on a wooden table. Two other people – a dark-skinned woman and a boy – were waiting for them. The woman leaned against the counter, looking slightly awkward in an apron, and the boy was sitting on the floor, pushing some glass figurines around in a parody of play. Hei immediately recognized the boy as a doll from his stiff movements. He took a little longer to size up the woman, but eventually decided that she was likely a contractor.

"You're welcome here," the man said. "Please have a seat. I'm Jack Simon, and this is my wife, April, and our son."

Hei nodded, but made no move to sit. The woman grinned, reaching in the sink for a can of beer and cracking it open.

"Ah, but I'm tired…" she said lazily. "He's just as smart as they said, November."

"November?" Hei said, addressing the man.

Drawing one arm in front of him, the blond contractor gave a stiff mock-bow. "November 11. April, July and I were the backup for your operation. Now we're the pipeline for information."

"I see."

"We have two sets of orders for you. You are to execute both without rousing the suspicion of the Fullmetal brothers. What precautions have they taken?"

Hei turned, lifting the hem of his coat and shirt so that they could see the array etched on his back. Examining it closely, the female contractor – April – whistled. "They've branded you like a cow."

"An inhibition array? But that shouldn't be too much of a problem for you…Mr. Black Grim Reaper." Although Hei's expression did not change, November's smile morphed into something of a smirk. "What else?"

"All exits to their quarters are sealed with alchemy."

"Your pussycat can handle that detail, no?"

Hei said nothing.

"In a week's time the main operation will commence. At that time, all you have to do is stand aside, unless either of the ones you're babysitting look as if they mean to be involved. If that comes to pass, you're to eliminate them. Either way, you'll be freed to leave, and take your doll with you. You'll receive instructions at that time about what further steps to take."

"What about the girl?"

November shrugged, looking to April, who shook her head. "She's not officially part of anything. You can do with her as you please." His eyes narrowed. "Why? Is she a liability?"

"No. She knows nothing."

"Then let them relocate her, or whatever it was they were planning on doing." Seeing Hei's expression of surprise, as controlled as it was, November smirked again. "Did you really think we were allowing you to operate unsupervised?"

Pause. In the time that passed, April guzzled at her beer, and the boy doll – July – pushed the figurines against one another, making clicking noises. "You said there were two sets of instructions."

"Yes. One small job. Within the complex, so it's an easy matter." November fished in his pocket and brought out a small piece of paper. "This is the location of the quarters. The timing doesn't matter much, as long as it's done before the main job. Since you don't have a doll, tonight the cat will bring you a transmitter which you can use to communicate with July so that it goes smoothly." Hei nodded to show he'd absorbed the information, and November took the paper back and passed it over the candle burning in the center of the table to destroy it.

"Who?"

"A military official with cold feet." The blond contractor took a seat and casually taking up a mug, sipped at it. April crushed her beer can and tossed it underneath the sink. "That's all the information you get. It's about time for your friends to be finishing up with my icy porch."

Sure enough, Ed and Al were soon knocking at the back door. They came in shivering, knocking the snow off of their boots.

"I swear the temperature dropped five degrees while we were clearing all of that," Ed grumbled, attacking a mug of cocoa with gusto. November beamed, wrapping an arm around his 'wife's waist.

"We're indebted to you. Please, allow us to offer some recompense."

Al shook his head firmly, raising one hand in polite refusal. "It's a public service, so we can't accept any kind of payment."

"Is that so? What a shame. Every service comes at price that one must pay."

"In that case, think of your gratitude as a worthy payment," Al replied, smiling. "The hot chocolate is a bonus."

November threw back his head and laughed, then quieted, meeting Hei's eyes with his usual off-kilter smile. "What a generous soul you have…" he murmured. "Indeed, that's a good way to think of it."

Neither brother seemed to catch his meaning; instead, Ed leaned forward to elaborate. "Well, it's a duty of sorts to keep the city functioning smoothly. If its citizens can't function, then neither can the military."

"The military always truly is looking out for the people of Amestris," April purred, laying one delicately manicured hand on Al's shoulder. "What would the common folk do without you? First you unearthed that vile plot and drove the imposters of the military out of the country, then you defended us gallantly in the East, and now you unearth its snowbound citizens. Without you, Amestris would certainly have been another Ishbal."

Ed eyed her dark skin and seemed to choose his words carefully. "We do what we can."

Silently, Hei rose. "Al," he addressed the younger brother. "Didn't you want to go sledding? Before the snow melts?"

"Hm? Oh, yes." Al rose and bowed to November and April. "I hope we aren't being rude if we take our leave."

November smiled widely. "Not at all." As he showed them to the door, April on his arm, he murmured, "Please do take care of yourselves."

As they left, only Ed turned his head slightly to regard the house again, his brow furrowing darkly. Hei watched him coolly from the corner of his eye, but the older alchemist said nothing. As he turned back, his gaze met Hei's, and they held each other's eyes briefly, expressions unreadable.

A snowball from Al caught Ed on the exposed skin of his neck, and he yelped and swiftly returned fire, seeming to forget whatever reservation had wrinkled his brow.

Hei, on the other hand, did not.

* * *

Later, when they three, panting and exhausted, had fought their way over to the park, Ed held up a hand, lazily intercepting a snowball thrown by his younger brother. Dissolving it alchemically, he shook his head and said, "I'm going home."

Al made a disapproving face, just short of pouting. "Nii-san…"

"I'll stay out with you, Al." Though shivering (the winter clothes they'd transmuted for him were somewhat thin) Hei offered nonetheless. He was gratified to see how pleased it made Al, and Ed, too, though the older brother concealed it more effectively.

"Thank you. Are you cold? I can fix that…" Approaching him, Al caught the tip of his tongue between his teeth, deep in concentration. "Just hold still for a second."

Hei's breath caught when the young alchemist's palms pressed against his chest and heat flooded his body. For a second he felt like he was being boiled from the inside, but the heat suffused through his limbs and instead he felt only warm. He gave a thin-lipped, but grateful, smile.

Al's eyes were wide and inviting. "Come on," he encouraged, "let's go."

As they made their way down the street and into the park, struggling through the remaining snow, Hei could feel the older alchemist's eyes on him, but he did not turn.


	8. Interlude: Sin

"_To wash oneself clean of one sin that was so permeated with sacrilege, one must commit another. In the end, the two would cancel each other out, as if neither had ever existed. One must merge one form of darkness with another with another, and then wait for the darkness to be tinged with the rosiness of the fateful dawn to come."_

_

* * *

_"What's going on?" Al – was it Al? – spun himself in lopsided circles, emitting a high-pitched screaming and clawing at his eyes. The armor had crumpled in a heap on the floor. All that remained of Hoenheim was a dark splotch, obscuring the intricate lines of the overlapped transmutation circles. Al fell upon it, seething, pounding the floor, as Ed dragged himself nearer to his brother. "Al! Al!"

Suddenly he was grasped under the arms by Izumi and pulled up, flipped over. "It's not Al," she said hoarsely. "I have to stop it before it destroys itself. It'll break its own bones, at this rate..."

Ed's eyes flicked back and forth between his own twisted, blackened automail leg and Al – Al's body – it – which now pounded its head on the floor. "What are you saying? That's Al!"

"That's Al's body. Winry! Get over here. Bind up his leg. It's not his soul."

The pain increased, and Ed felt as if he might pass out. "No – no. His soul – Al –"

Their master regarded him with something like pity, fighting back her own emotion. "I won't destroy it. I'll restrain it. Don't worry." Winry came into his sphere of vision and Izumi vanished abruptly. Winry's eyes were bright with tears, but her face was stony as she clamped down on his leg. He let out a brief scream as his body shuddered with pain, the exposed nerves running through the mutilated automail writhing with the sensation.

Suddenly – almost simultaneously – the horrid screeching of the creature with Al's body ceased. Ed rolled his face to the side, trying through to see through the blood slowly trickling into his eyes. Izumi had halted her advance, taken aback. The grotesquely thin form of Al's body had ceased the violence against itself. It stared at him blankly. Then, a shift in the eyes, and forced, struggling: "Nii-san...you're hurt."

The feeling of being stabbed through the chest, a shock of joy even more painful than the gaping mess where his automail had used to be, sucked the air out of Ed's lungs. When he recovered his breath, desperately trying to make himself heard, he shouted: "It's him! It's Alphonse! Al!" But as he watched, Al's expression slowly contorted, and he threw his head back and screamed again, sinking his fingers into the thin flesh of his cheeks. "Alphonse!"

This spectre haunted him as he slowly lost consciousness.

* * *

When he awoke, Ed at first remembered nothing. As he took in his surroundings – room, curtains half-drawn, light of a midwinter day, dull pain in his leg, restlessness in the rest of his limbs – he began to remember. When he turned his head to the side, Izumi was sitting there quietly, regarding him. Before he could open his mouth to speak, she said:

"Al is fine. You've been asleep about a week. Mostly stress from the transmutation. You lost your automail, and almost lost the nerves connected to it, as well. Winry's been working on a replacement leg. We've called Doctor Zhou to take care of you both. Your father...as predicted, did not survive."

Ed nodded. It was exactly like her to dispense all of the necessary information without regard for his fuzzy state of consciousness. He struggled to recall more from the night of the transmutation. "Al...you said something about Al not being himself."

This gave Izumi some pause. She seemed to be sifting through her thoughts. "It seems that when Al's soul pulled his body back through the gate, it was not only his body which came through."

He absorbed the information. "Are you saying...his body is possessed?"

It was a possibility that had been considered, however briefly. Ed closed his eyes, overwhelmed.

_While Hoenheim had pleaded, Ed had remained stone-faced, arms crossed over his chest. Al, head in hands and expression, as usual, unreadable through the armor, did not say anything either. Their father appealed to them, hands spread wide. Izumi was with them, too, though she had offered nothing thus far. It was in the wake of having driven Father and his creations from Amestris, stripping the military bare of schemers. Their victory had been stained with the devastation of Father's second plan – using Ishbal, he had brought half of the Gate into physical being. There was nothing to be done; nothing they had thought of, yet. Hoenheim's appearance was met with rage from Ed, but Al convinced him to listen. And he threw himself upon their mercy:_

"_They sought me out. They used me to create Hell's Gate. Though it is not through my own will, the responsibility for the death of two countries is something I cannot bear. Please." His eyes were dry, but his voice sounded as if he were sobbing. "I want to use this sinful body for the good of my children."_

_They needed no more, Hoenheim explained, a price to pry open the Gate as it stood half-open, already leaking into the world, and pulling things of the world into it. He himself would serve as the price for Al's body. Near-hysterical, Al immediately refused. In the end, it was Izumi, not Ed, who had convinced him to reconsider his father's proposition. The four of them worked on the theory and transmutation circles, and when it was finally ready, she secured for them a ramshackle cabin near the borderline of Ishbal._

Now, Izumi shrugged, neither her face nor her voice betraying her real emotions. "A body staying that long in the Gate...it had to do something to survive. But it would be wrong to assume that there's another person in there with Al. They're fragments, shattered pieces of other souls, mangled and twisted. Together, they have joined to survive off of Al's body, like a virus, or a parasite. With the inhabiting of another soul, they would be ejected, and sent back into the nothingness of the Gate. Al's soul is fighting desperately to stay in his body, and he's giving it his best. His soul is strong – you, and he, ensured that. But his body is dangerously weak. It's possible that it could die on the battlefield. With Hell's Gate suspended in its perpetual state between worlds, there's no telling how long the fight could last."

Ed shook his head as the truth sunk in. "I want to see him. I need to see him. Please -"

Izumi glanced over at Doctor Zhou, who had noiselessly entered some time before and was making notes on a chart. He made a helpless expression. "I don't see the harm, as long as he doesn't do it on his own steam. If we don't comply, he'll find his own way there. Besides, it might do well for Al to see him."

"Fine. Make the necessary preparations." When the doctor left, Izumi turned to Ed. "Should I call Winry? She'll be glad to know you're awake, at least."

"No." Ed felt a rising impatience. "Later. Where is that damn doctor?"

"Here. I had to get a few things we need for Al, too." With the somewhat rough assistance of Izumi, they managed to get Ed into the wheelchair. As Izumi wheeled him through the corridor, and the two of them lifted the chair to manipulate it down a flight of stairs, the doctor cautioned, "You must not be alarmed. His condition is stable, for now. Above all, you must remain quiet and calm, or you will agitate him."

This only served to make Ed more anxious. When they finally reached the door – it seemed they had him in one of the ground floor rooms – Zhou pulled a set of key out of his pocket and undid several locks. It looked as if they had been newly installed. Zhou went in first, turning on a low light and going over to a dresser, where he began unpacking the small satchel of implements he had brought. Ed strained to see into the relative darkness of the room as Izumi wheeled him inside. When his eyes finally adjusted, he swore softly, his chest clenching. "What are you _doing_ to him?"

Al lay on the bed, which also seemed newly modified, both of his arms and legs restrained to the sides by means of thick cloth manacles. He was hooked up to several IVs and a softly beeping machine which seemed to be monitoring his heart rate. The bedclothes and nightgown were dingy, and the whole room stank of medicine, blood, and sweat. His hair was a matted, clumped mess around his head, which was slumped to the side, but his eyes, half-open, glinted dully at Ed in the low light. Ed suppressed various urges to scream, to throw himself out of his wheelchair, to weep. Izumi laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, which he permitted, despite himself. "Why is he like this?"

Zhou was now checking the machine and IVs. "If we don't keep him restrained, he inflicts massive harm upon himself. Even restrained, he refuses food, bites his lips, tries to choke himself by ingesting his hair. This way, we've been able to have him gain a few pounds, and I was able to heal most of his wounds."

Ed struggled to wheel himself closer. Izumi seemed to hesitate, and then helped him to the side of the bed opposite of the doctor.

Al. It had been so long since he had been this close to his brother - all of his brother, body and soul. Even dirty, skeletal, his wrists marked red and raw from the restraints, he was recognizable. Ed felt the weight of the years spent searching for this exact moment press upon him. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to reach out and grasp his brother's hand, aching because he could not.

A few minutes passed while Ed sat in his brother's presence. A small noise finally prompted him to lift his bowed head and, with difficulty, take his eyes off of Al. Zhou nodded at him and lifted a pair of scissors. "I'm going to cut his hair in case he wakes up again."

Impulsively, Ed reached out his flesh hand. "Can I – ?"

"Oh. Yes, alright. Be careful, though. No quick movements or loud noises. Don't touch him more than you have to – it will wake him." The doctor passed over the scissors and returned to refilling the IV bags.

Ed was barely aware of his master leaning over him as he reached over and picked up a clump of Al's hair off the rank pillow. It was only a couple of shades darker than his own, but now made even more so with sweat and filth. _Al – I wonder how you would like it, after all these years._ Gently he passed the scissors through it. He repeated the motion, getting somewhat lost in the hypnotic procedure. The tips of his fingers brushed Al's cheekbone and he winced at how sharp it felt, at the same time feeling an indescribable elation. _Bone of my bone..._

So absorbed was he that he heard Izumi's slow intake of breath before he noticed that Al's eyes were now fully open, and fixed upon him. Ed froze, his eyes flickering to the scissors, desperately trying to think of how he would draw them away without provoking whatever-it-was in Al's body any further.

But Al gave a drawn smile that disarmed Ed completely. A harsh whisper escaped the chapped lips. "Nii-san..."

Ed felt his alarm crumble. "Al..."

A sort of film seemed to slide over Al's eyes. His smile widened, becoming frighteningly toothy. In a completely different voice, he snarled, "I'll kill you!"

Before Ed could react, he threw his head to the side, burying the tip of the scissors in his skull.

It seemed as if both Izumi and Doctor Zhou moved at once. Izumi pushed Ed to the side and grasped Al's head firmly between her hands, while the doctor struggled for a syringe. Al was howling and tossing as much as his restraints allowed. When Zhou came back to Al's bedside with the needle, Ed shouted, "Wait!"

Somehow he managed to make himself heard. Al abruptly ceased struggling and lay quiet, though his face was still contorted, and saliva gathered in the corners of his mouth. The scissors had been dislodged by his convulsions, and blood seeped out between Izumi's fingers, her hand clamped over the small wound. Using the blood, she traced a transmutation circle on Al's skull and healed it shut. Meanwhile Ed, with difficulty, wheeled himself closer again. Taking up the syringe, Izumi drew back, her face forcibly set into an expression of neutrality. Zhou dropped back to join her, to allow Ed more room.

Al's entire body trembled with some unknown exertion. His eyes were fixed and staring, and through clenched teeth small moans escaped. Gingerly, Ed rested his flesh hand on top of the blankets.

Immediately Al's head jerked to face him. The tension in his facial muscles seemed to redouble, and then relax. Slowly, Ed brought his hand up and rested it on his brother's bloody head. Al didn't flinch.

"I'm sorry, Al," Ed said in a choked voice, recognizing his younger brother's presence in his gentle eyes. "I hurt your head."

Al smiled a little and shook his head, wincing. "No – I hurt it. It was too hard…to fight them off…"

Izumi and the doctor exchanged glances. It was the first time they had seen Al in full command of his body since his first recognition of Ed, nearly a week prior. Neither moved, afraid to break the spell.

At a loss for words, Ed submitted himself to the overwhelming sensation of gazing into his brother's eyes, animated by his spirit, for the first time in so many years. Though Al's smile was tired, he too seemed to be experiencing the same joy. "It feels good…"

Ed laughed, feeling tears rising to his eyes. "To have your body back?"

"Your hand on my head."

His chest swelled alarmingly; a joy so intense it was indistinguishable from grief nearly paralyzed him. He was unable to speak for a minute. Then, gently, moving his fingers a little: "I cut your hair."

"I know. I was watching – quietly – or they'd come." Fear flickered in Al's eyes. "I don't know if I can fight them and win."

Ed shook his head, unwilling to hear. "Don't say that. Of course you will."

"If they win, Nii-san, please – " Al struggled to produce the words "– please use this body and bring Father back."

"No." The sensation (already growing more familiar) of losing Al was coming back. "No. I swear to you, Al, I will not."

"Please." Al choked on his own words and began to writhe. "Nii-san!"

Zhou snapped into motion. Even as Ed protested "_Wait!_" through the blur of his tears, the doctor had administered the sedative. The writhing calmed. Al kept his eyes fixed on Ed as he slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

It was too much like watching him die.

The doctor moved briskly. "I'm sorry, Edward, but we can't risk another episode like that one."

Ed sat silently, barely watching as Izumi and Zhou cleaned up the rest of the blood as best they could and finished attending to the IVs and machines. He was startled out of his reverie when Izumi lightly tugged on the hunk of dark blond hair clenched in his metal hand. Slowly he unclenched his hand and let it fall.

Both Ed and Izumi were silent as she, alone, managed to drag his wheelchair back up the flight of stairs. Ed winced as the chair jarred his healing leg. When they reached the top of the stairs, both were startled by an exclamation from further down the hallway:

"Ed!"

Winry was at his side in what seemed like an instant, hugging him fiercely. Her arms around him felt good; he felt human. Simultaneously, however, guilt descended upon him, joining with the weight of the worry he felt for his brother. What right did he have to rejoice? His brother's life was not secure. He would bear the responsibility alone, as he had before.

"I'm so glad you're alright." Drawing back a little, Winry saw the expression on Ed's face and paused. "How is Al?"

"Haven't you seen him?"

Winry glanced at Izumi. "Not since…we got him to bed. Doctor Zhou didn't think it would be good for him to get excited." She looked back to Ed, one hand still resting on his shoulder. "But I knew that he would let you see him. The transmutation worked, didn't it?"

Ed closed his eyes, refusing to answer. "I'm tired." Faintly he was aware of Izumi and Winry taking him back to the room, putting him to bed.

While he slept, he dreamed.

In his dreams, the armored Al spoke to him, his voice echoing hollowly inside the cave in which Ed had imprisoned him:

"_I want to touch you again. It's strange. We're this close, but things like the sensation of touching you, the warmth of your body: I can't remember them."_

All the nights Al had spent sleepless by his side. While he had rested, for Al there had been no rest. Guilt rose within him for sleeping now, permeating even into his dreams. He awoke in a cold sweat.

It was late at night, and the small house was silent. As quietly as he could, and using the crutch which someone (probably the doctor) had set thoughtfully nearby, Ed limped over to the window and looked out. The landscape was frozen and cold, and in the distance the weird light of Hell's Gate, like an infernal aurora borealis, shone darkly. The spectre of his brother's armored face rose up before him and his gut clenched and twisted.

As quietly as possible he made his way down the stairs, cringing at the slightest sounds. At the door to Al's room, he clapped and transmuted the locks open, and then halted for a good twenty seconds, holding his breath, but no sounds came from without or within. Finally he eased his way inside, nudging the door closed behind him.

A small lamp bathed the room in an eerie glow. Al appeared to be resting peacefully, and Ed resumed his position in the chair at the head of the bed, his eyes unable to leave his brother's body. It was hard to believe that within this peacefully sleeping body seethed a monstrous horde of shattered pieces of souls damned to the Gate.

Time passed; Ed was unsure of exactly how much. In his mind's eye, the older alchemist saw again the light and heat from the transmutation, Al's armor body seeming to liquefy; he saw himself standing before the stone doors of the Gate, their crumbing, intricate carvings eluding him. A dark, almost pleasurable sense of nostalgia swept over him.

He remembered cooling swollen wounds on Al's metal 'skin'; warming the armor with alchemy on cold nights and curling close to absorb the heat: always the unreadable red glow of the eyes, the familiar voice saying, _"I'm glad this body of mine can be of use to you, brother."_ He remembered the occasional questions and tests – brushing a finger over Al's shoulder: "_Can you feel that?" "No." _Hitting open-handed, a little harder, still gently._ "That?" "A little. I can feel the pressure; like the time you fell asleep in my lap. I couldn't feel the shape of your body, just your weight." _

In his (likely drug-induced) sleep, Al began first to twitch, and then slowly to twist, moaning close-lipped.

_No._ Ed clenched his teeth and bowed his head, willing it to stop; he could feel, physically, the pain of the struggle in his younger brother. It did not stop. Instead Al, tossing his head back and forth on the pillow, began to bite into his lower lip, drawing blood.

"Stop." Unable to think straight, overwhelmed by the horror of the situation, the alchemist did the only thing he could think of – he stuck his flesh hand into his brother's mouth, prying his teeth from his lip and settling his fingers as a guard between them.

Al bit. Ed resisted the impulse to yowl in pain, and instead firmly grasped his brother's shoulder with his automail hand. "Al! Can you hear me? Al!"

As before, Al's body seemed to tense, and then relax. His eyes opened and rolled around a bit before they came to rest on his older brother. The teeth which had dug deep into Ed's fingers relaxed somewhat, and Al grimaced as he tasted his older brother's blood. Ed tried to soothe him, pulling himself as close as the chair allowed, resting his upper body in the bed next to him and repeating,

"It's okay. I'm fine. Don't worry."

Al swallowed audibly. "Sin…"

"What?"

"The sin of my father is upon me. The blood of my mother is on my hands. Die. Die. I want to die." Al's voice was at once mellifluous and hoarse, full-throated and wispy. "Go back – the Gate – "

"No. I won't let you – "

Al's face twisted in a bizarre parody of laughter, flecks of foam rising to his lips. "Ha! Ha! YOU WILL DO WHAT? _Nii-san_?" The last words mocking, a curse. "It's too late for your little brother. We've seen into his soul. He is ours." With each sentence, the pitch and timbre of Al's voice changed. "Did you think you'd saved him? Foolish children!"

"Al, please…" Ed felt tears rising to his eyes, bile to his throat. "Al!"

_I'm glad this body can be useful to you._

_I can feel your shape, but not your weight._

Desperate, impulsive, Ed lunged himself forward, on top of his brother. He held the full weight of his body on his palms so as not to injure Al further. Al's eyes met his: fierce, wild, unrecognizable.

Kissing him, Ed tasted his own blood. It seemed that the bitterness, the tension of all the years was confined inside of that taste. From the moment he had taken his younger brother's body from him, he had entangled himself in taboo, drank so deeply of desecration that this, now, only seemed fitting, only felt right. He felt a twisted joy rise through his remaining limbs. If it was for this that he had exchanged pieces of his body – now, seemingly with permanence – then he could accept, wholly, the consequences.

Then the kiss was timidly returned, and his spectral fantasy collapsed.

He pulled back. His arms trembled from supporting his weight over Al as their eyes met again and he realized, startled, that it was _Al_. The eyes confused, a little frightened, but clouded with fondness and recognition and – something else. Ed swallowed hard. His gentle, wise little brother. He hadn't acted in pure desperation to exorcise a demon; _he_ himself was the demon. Nothing he could blame his father for, or attribute to his mother's death: his own sin. The desire to possess what he ought never to have touched.

"I'm sorry," he forced out, and began to struggle to remove his body from his brother's. "Al, I – "

Al shook his head. "Nii-san." The way he moved his body, arching upward, his eyes pleading, seemed to say, _Don't leave._

He didn't leave. He undid the bonds, awkwardly, and they lay together. Though Al seemed exhausted, and disoriented, from time to time, there was no sign of his previous madness.

Neither of them took notice of two pairs of eyes at the door, which had been watching for some time. In the light of the morning, however, there was much to answer for.


	9. Blood

In the end, it was not Al, but Ed who filled in the gaps in the brothers' story for Hei. It was not many days after the deep snow they had received; Hei had come down to the research area with Ed, obediently allowing the older alchemist to begin studying him. For the initial investigation, he lay almost nude over a transmutation array, and quieted his breathing while Ed traced more lines over his body with a piece of charcoal.

In response to Hei's attempts to make casual conversation, and seemingly more relaxed while he was working, Ed offered up much the same story as his younger brother. He paused briefly when he reached that piece of the tale, then somewhat crudely described the method by which he believed he had saved his brother's life. Hei was politely silent for a few moments, and then ventured,

"Then, are you two…?"

Ed silenced his question with a burning glare, the grip of his automail tightening around Hei's wrist. "That's none of your concern." Recovering himself in response to Hei's mildly reproachful gaze, he loosened his grip again and added, "It was an act of desperation."

"I see." The strange feeling of the charcoal dragging over his skin unnerved him slightly, but he willed his face to remain impassive. Ed seemed in no mood to discuss the matter further, and Hei let it drop, using the time for reflection. When Ed activated the array without warning, however, he could not suppress a shallow gasp.

"I never repented of my sin," Ed informed him without affect, studying what was illuminated in the glow of the activated array. "How could I repent of bringing my brother back to me?"

Hei fought to keep his eyes open. Through squinted eyelids, he could see Ed's expression of astonishment. "What is it?"

"I've never seen anything like this before," Ed said absently, and Hei smiled a little, reminding himself again of Ed's youth and his indiscretion. The alchemist seemed to realize it, too, for abruptly he stepped back, taking his hands off of the array. The odd sensation, a mixture of discomfort and tingling, faded with the blue light of the transmutation. Hei met Ed's somewhat sullen, golden gaze unabashedly. The two brothers' eyes were almost the same color, but the light that gave them depth was totally different.

He propped himself up on his elbows with some difficulty. "So, Fullmetal, what did you see?"

Instead of answering, Ed turned to the sink and began to wash the charcoal from his hands. Carefully refusing the question, he said, "I don't appreciate how close you've been getting to my brother."

"I don't understand."

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable staying with Yin?"

Hei raised his eyebrows, mildly. "Are you kicking me out?"

Looking genuinely surprised, Ed shook his head. "No. I just don't understand why you would elect to stay with us, now that you have a choice." Drying his hands, he tossed a damp towel to Hei, who began rubbing at the lines on his arms.

The young alchemist had a good point, and he was at a loss to answer it directly, so he shifted the topic slightly. "Why don't you appreciate my friendship with Al?"

Ed grimaced a little. "You're not exactly in a position to be his friend, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're our research subject." The truth was stark and bitter.

Consciously not meeting Ed's uncomfortable gaze, Hei forced his tone to remain neutral. "I suppose so."

In an attempt to shrug the situation off, Ed waved slightly as he turned his back to Hei and began sketching out a report. "Forget I said anything. I'm just tired."

Hei did not respond, rubbing at the smeared charcoal which lay like bruises over his skin.

As for the mission, it had been simple enough. Hei made nearly all of their meals by that point, and it was nothing to slip a little sleeping powder – brought to him by Mao the night before – into their evening tea. The winter days were short, and their work kept them in the research laboratories later and later, and so neither brother was surprised to see the other yawning before eight o'clock. Ed trudged off to bed shortly after, and Al attempted to keep Hei company in an effort to be polite, but soon also disappeared into the bedroom at Hei's gentle urgings.

They'd neglected to lock both the windows and the door. Hei chose one of the former, donning the clothes and mask which Mao had brought him in a satchel on his back, securing the knife which had been also inside, and then shimmying down a drain pipe. Mao led him to the alchemist's apartment, and they entered together through another window. Dropping in soundlessly, he noticed a light on in the kitchenette, and without even a pretense at stealth strode toward it. When he saw the face of the alchemist, he was slightly surprised, but controlled his reaction. On the other hand, Shou Tucker did not seem perturbed to see him at all.

"Mr. Black Grim Reaper! I've been expecting you. But you see, you're not needed any longer. I've delivered what he wanted. Come, I'll show you."

Hei could feel Mao's eyes on him, but he turned to follow Tucker anyway. The alchemist led them to the bolted door at the back of his quarters, and unfastened the locks. "I apologize for the inordinate amount of time it's taken, but still, the results are better than we possibly could have expected. But you'll see for yourself. I believe I chose an apt subject. There are, of course, side effects…and she's still as morose as usual."

Now he led them through the back room, dark and dank, and Hei was aware of the presence of many ghastly chimera, lolling in their cages, reaching through the bars and scraping at the floor for them. They made no noise except for the cracking of their limbs and snapping of their jaws. Their hideous eyes and teeth reflected the little light that came from Tucker's lantern. Tucker paused and knelt before the largest cage, and beckoned Hei over.

He approached the cage and bent down for a better look. Recognizing the contractor, he drew in his breath inaudibly. She was filthy and rank, and her eyes darted anxiously from side to side as she attempted, dog-fashion, to squeeze herself into as tiny as possible a form. The rags she wore could not have been called clothes. She looked as if she were starving. Behind Hei, Tucker sighed somewhat dramatically.

"What can I do? She refuses to eat. Even though she's got what it is she wanted."

Hei remained silent, but turned to face the alchemist.

Tucker shrugged in feigned nonchalance. "She's been stripped of her remuneration. She'll never have to commit that ugly act again. She's free! Even so, I can't get her to smile about it." He rapped his hand on the top of the cage, and the contractor inside jumped in horror, her mouth open in a soundless yelp. "I don't think she'll be of any use. But I've got the method down pat." Confidently he reached out, as if to touch Hei's arm in a display of comradely affection. "So there's no need for any – "

Drawing his knife, Hei ran him through without hesitation, careful to remove his hand and grasp him by the shoulders so that the blood spurted out over the floor and not him. The cement-like floor turned dark red. Mao, who was perched atop one of the larger cages, lashed his tail as Tucker went down with a strangled gulping noise. "I'd forgotten what it was like to see the Black Grim Reaper at work."

No response. Hei bent with the weight of Tucker's body, withdrawing the knife and wiping it clean on the alchemist's clothing. Inside the cage, the female contractor cowered, but when he brought his face up to look at her, a glimmer of recognition flashed across her features. "Hei?"

He nodded. "Carmine," he said.

She seemed unable to stop shivering. Reaching one claw-like hand forward, she dragged herself nearer to him. "Please, let me out of this place."

"I can't." Rather than confront her incredulous, helpless expression, he rose and went over to Tucker's desk, and carefully began to sift through the paperwork. Mao jumped down on light cat feet from his perch and went over to the cage to talk with her.

"You see, we can't allow anyone to know it was Hei who committed the murder. Right now we're still working on our final mission. You understand, right? But don't worry. We won't allow anyone to find out what's been done to you. You'll be transferred back downstairs."

She seemed to relax a little. At the desk, Hei had located what he was looking for. He rolled up the documents and inserted them into the plastic tube, then sealed it. Turning, he gestured to Mao. "Have you found one yet?"

"Yes." Mao made himself comfortable in front of Carmine's cage. "Miss, you may want to close your eyes for this."

The female contractor shook her head. "After what's happened to me here, it's nothing that will surprise me."

Mao nodded, an odd gesture for a cat. Briefly his body glowed blue, and then the cat's body dropped to the floor. Holding the tube in his hand, Hei searched the room until he heard Mao calling him in a hideously distorted growl.

"Over here." The chimera Mao had selected was a brutal-looking beast with the features of a tiger, a snake, and some type of horned animal. The eyes that glared at Hei were softened with the light of Mao's consciousness. "Let me out."

Hei obeyed. He was vaguely aware of Mao, now using the chimera's body, rending the body of Tucker to pieces. The death of this alchemist at the hands of his own creation would arouse little suspicion, and even less sympathy. For his own part, he disabled the lock, making it look as though the chimera inside had damaged it, and scattered some feed that he had found beneath the desk around the floor. When he returned, the chimera that Mao had possessed was breathing heavily over Tucker's body, now a bloody, mangled mess.

"I began with the knife wound you made," Mao said, gesturing messily at the chimera's horn, covered in bloody refuse. "My control of this body isn't perfect, but I think it should do."

"Good." Now taking the knife he had used on Tucker, Hei tensed. "Ready?"

Mao groaned. "Make it quick."

The chimera bellowed as Hei slashed at it, making the shallow cuts that a desperate man would have made. Finally he stuck the knife sideways in its throat and it crumpled to the floor on top of Tucker, expiring. Near the cage, Mao drew himself up with a shudder, then recoiled in disgust. "There's blood on my fur."

"Lick it off before we get out of here," Hei ordered. Turning to Carmine briefly, he inclined his head.

"See you," she said, softly.

Once outside again, Hei tied the tube to Mao's neck. "Be back by morning."

"I know, I know." The cat yawned. "What a night!"

There was no sign of motion when Hei returned to the Elrics'. He settled on the couch, and waited, sleepless, for morning to come.

* * *

Several days passed, and Hei, uncharacteristically, gave himself over to worry. He'd heard nothing of Tucker's death as yet, which meant that (unless they were purposefully keeping it quiet) Carmine was still in his quarters, caged up next to the body, which surely at this point was beginning to bloat and rot. He was making a chicken curry for the brothers to take to the Hughes', to meet their master, who had finally arrived. It had apparently turned into something of a little fete, and the brothers seemed in a combined good mood, the tension between Ed and Hei since the initial examination slowly diminishing.

"Li, what do you think of this shirt? Is it too formal?"

Hei directed his attention away from the curry to check on Al's attire. The alchemist wore a button-down of deep green, half-buttoned and wrinkled. His hair was wet. "No, it's fine."

From the bedroom, Ed yelped, "Al, did you transmute my pants…?"

Al grinned. "Thanks. I can help you with the cooking soon."

"Don't trouble yourself," he called as the younger brother disappeared back into the bedroom.

The way the sauce splattered into the pan reminded him suddenly of Tucker's blood seeping over the floor, and he blinked in surprise. Usually his work never intruded into the other areas of his life, but now he could not shake a lingering sensation of – was it truly guilt? Regret, for the deception? He shook his head to clear it, incredulously.

A knock sounded at the door. His hands sticky with curry, Hei waited for one of the brothers to answer it, watching out of the corner of his eye. He could not see the person on the other side of the door, and Ed's responses were too low to catch. When the older brother shut the door and withdrew with a sheet of paper and a solemn expression, however, he could tell something was wrong. Al must have sensed it, too, for he came back out of the bedroom, rubbing his hair with a towel. "What is it, Nii-san?"

"Tucker's dead."

"_What?_"

Inwardly Hei sighed. Inconvenient, for it to happen on this day, but better for Carmine, if it meant she would escape the horror she had been living with for the past few days. As Ed explained the details to Al, Hei listened closely without seeming to do so, and was relieved to note that for now, at least, the military did not seem harbor suspicions about the cause of death.

"How could something like this have happened?" Hei ventured, wandering into the main room. Ed was sitting on one of the couches, attempting to fix his hair into a braid, but somehow seeming to have trouble. Wordlessly, Hei took over for him, and though the alchemist stiffened briefly, he allowed the contractor to finish braiding as Al answered his question.

"The alchemical research laboratories used to be separate from the military headquarters, but for various reasons it was thought best if they were relocated here. One of the reasons was that so accidents like this one would become less rare. If Tucker had been following policy and keeping his subjects downstairs, something like this never would have happened."

Ed started to nod in agreement, but checked the motion as he recalled Hei was braiding his hair. Instead, he added, "There will have to be a full investigation. The Lieutenant wanted to know if we were interested in helping out."

Al shuddered, just visibly. "I don't like the idea of going into his research laboratory, but…"

"Finished," Hei declared, lifting his hands.

"What will happen to his subjects, Nii-san?"

Though Hei had moved back, allowing Ed to rise, the older alchemist remained seated, his expression unreadable. "They'll be disposed of."

Hei controlled his reaction, turning back into the kitchenette to retrieve the curry, and bringing it out, he set it on the table between the brothers. The steam rose lazily, filling the room with a delicious scent.

"Then we have to help in the investigation," Al continued. "We can't allow that to happen."

"If Tucker was experimenting with them, they may be better off dead."

"Nii-san."

"Sorry." Though Ed apologized immediately, he kept his eyes locked with Hei's, seeming to communicate something inscrutable between them. Meanwhile Al leaned forward, appreciating the sight and smell of the curry.

"This looks great, Li."

Hei shrugged, grinning as he refocused on Al. "Good. I hope you two enjoy the dinner tonight."

"Enjoy? But you're coming with us, aren't you?"

"Is he?"

"Of course he is! Quick, go get dressed. I had Breda bring some dress clothes the other day."

"So that's what those oversized dress pants were doing on my side of the closet," Ed grumbled, shaking his head at his brother. Al looked slightly abashed, but still smiled.

"Hurry! We're supposed to be there in fifteen minutes."

Hei tossed the dishtowel he was carrying back into the kitchen and headed to the bedroom. Appearing from under the couch, Mao followed him, and when he shut the door, the cat leapt up on the bed nimbly and confronted him, ears laid back.

"How is this going to work?"

"Have them let you out before we leave."

"That's not what I meant."

He finished dressing and gave Mao a comforting, if condescending, scratch behind the ears. "It'll work out. Trust me."

* * *

The atmosphere at the Hughes' was considerably less festive than Al had imagined it would be, and it made him apprehensive. In the cab he sat squished between Ed and Li, who again seemed to have some kind of vague tension between them, and with some difficulty balanced the curry on his knees. He felt somewhat invisible until, after a sharp turn, Li reached over and gently took over the job of holding the curry. Al smiled at him gratefully and then frowned as he felt Ed tense in annoyance beside him.

Gracia, accompanied by Suou at her side, greeted them at the door. The housewife bowed a little, with a ghost of her old familiar smile pulling at her lips, and Suou squeezed her hand in excitement. "We're very happy to see you!"

In the living room, Al noted that most of the guests were already present. Hawkeye and Kirihara were engaged in quiet discussion near the fire; Hughes and Armstrong (his niece notably absent) played chess; Fury and Havoc rifled through a stack of paperwork. Breda and Falman, Al knew, were on duty that night and not able to make it until later; but the Colonel also wasn't there, inexplicably. He scanned the room several times over before recognizing the forms of his master and her husband, helping to set the dining room table. Al grinned and waved, heading over immediately. Izumi clapped him on the shoulder, favoring him with a smile – about as affectionate as the stern woman ever got.

"It's good to see you again, Al."

"You too, Master."

"Hey, hey. Let's not be so friendly yet." Ed swaggered up, having snatched the curry from Li and set it down on the table with a declarative _bang._ "What exactly took you so long to get here?"

"I have duties, you know, shrimp."

"Who are you calling a shrimp, you crazy old wom – OW!" Ruefully, Ed rubbed at his injured skull, while Izumi, taking little notice of him, passed the curry over to Sig and motioned for him to uncover it and place it with the other dishes. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I was just eager to get your input on this case."

"The girl?" Izumi glanced back into the living room, where Suou was sitting contentedly by Hughes' side, watching him play chess. "I examined her earlier. She seems fine. Her brother's soul is at peace within her. The previous difficulty was just an initial reaction, I think; though her case is a strange one, she's not in any immediate danger."

"Not that case." Startled, both Izumi and Al turned to face Ed. Almost imperceptibly, he motioned to Li, who was sitting on the other side of Suou, also watching the chess game. "Him."

Suddenly Izumi also seemed to understand. "The one the Colonel mentioned in his report?"

"Yes."

"Nii-san, what's going on?" At this occult exchange, Al was filled with apprehension. "What report?"

Abruptly Ed's demeanor seemed to change. "Ah, well, we can speak of it later." He placed a reassuring hand over his brother's, briefly. "It's nothing important," he assured him. "I promise."

Yet Al wasn't comforted.

The mood of the rest of the evening was somewhat somber, for several reasons. The first and most prominent was that the last time they'd had such a gathering, later that night, the tragic incident had occurred in which they had lost two people who were precious to them. The second, which was less disturbing overall but more recent, was the newly unearthed death of Shou Tucker, which seemed to be a topic on everyone's lips. Fury and Havoc had copies of most of the preliminary reports, and when Ed found out he would not let them alone until he, too, had had a look. Overall, the conversations were quiet; the dinner table was near-silent as they ate. Afterward, Al found himself keeping Li company on the sofa, and watching as Kirihara took a chance at challenging Armstrong, who had not lost a game of chess all evening. The contractor seemed to feel slightly out of place at the gathering, and Al felt as if he should make him feel more welcome.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, at a lull as Kirihara contemplated her next move.

"Hm? Oh, I suppose so," Li answered vaguely, with his characteristic smile.

"It's kind of quiet, huh?"

"A little. Understandably so, with Mr. Tucker's death." He paused, then: "Let's liven it up a little," Li suggested, his grin becoming almost mischievous.

"How?"

The contractor rose, and gestured for him to follow.

"Nii-san, we're stepping out for a minute," Al called as they exited. Ed looked peeved, but also seemed engaged in his conversation with Izumi, and waved his assent.

They walked down the long, wet night street, pulling their coats close around them, until they found an open bar. Li explained his intentions, and Al willingly lent him the money and then watched as he disappeared inside. He spent several minutes shivering on the sidewalk before the contractor emerged, grinning and clutching a bottle wrapped in brown paper.

"This should help things liven up."

Certainly the members of the party seemed surprised when they returned with the bottle, but gradually, as glasses were brought out and the alcohol was poured, the mood definitely seemed to lift. Only Izumi and Hawkeye declined, and they watched in amusement as their friends and colleagues began to loosen up. Eventually Hughes brought out another bottle – this one of wine – and even poured small glasses for Gracia, Al and Ed. Al kept an eye on his older brother, knowing how vulnerable he was to alcohol, and regarded him a mixture of amusement and concern. Only Li seemed to hold back, having one glass but then refusing anything more.

Now Hughes put a record on, and danced with Gracia around the living room; she followed his motions, seeming bemused. Suou followed them, pleading with Hughes to teach her how to dance as well. Eventually someone knocked over the chessboard, and Armstrong roared in dismay, which sent Kirihara into a fit of laughter; when Havoc shushed her, she stumbled over and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Al averted his gaze, blushing. Fury produced a piccolo from somewhere within his coat and began to play along with the music. Sig swept Izumi around the room, ignoring her protests.

All was merry for an hour or so, until Ed, flushed from the alcohol, flopped down on the couch beside Al and swung an arm over him in an overly affectionate display. Though Al tried to squirm away without drawing attention to them, whispering, "Nii-san," in a pleading tone, his brother only tightened the grip of his automail arm, insisting in a low tone that he wanted a hug. Finally Al had to wrench himself away, whispering furiously:

"How could you do this here – in the place that Winry died?"

His brother fell silent and motionless, allowing Al to rise. He barely seemed to notice as Al left the room, followed closely by Li. The others, whether out of politeness or true ignorance, did not seem to acknowledge the exchange.

In the hall, Al and Li sat on the stairs which led to the upper floor in silence for a few minutes until Li finally inquired, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." It was only a half-lie. His stomach clenched with slight nausea.

"And your brother?"

"He'll be fine. He behaved like an idiot tonight. I can't believe he wasn't thinking of her…"

Li did not ask, but Al felt obligated to explain nonetheless.

"Winry was our friend from the time we were very young, but she was murdered while she was staying here at Mr. Hughes' place. We had a party here, that night, and later when we returned home she and Mr. Hughes' daughter were both killed. Nii-san went wild after Winry's death. He didn't know what to do with himself. This is the first time we've been back here since that night. I can't believe he could be so tactless."

"I see." In the light that leaked out from the main room and into the hallway, Al could see the lower half of Li's face illuminated. The set of his mouth was expressionless. He made no movement.

"They were engaged to be married," Al explained, lowly, feeling the words stumbling out of his mouth as if shoved through by the alcohol. Though it had been months, he felt the grief afresh, as if it had just happened, as he talked about it to someone other than his brother for the first time. "Even though she knew what happened between us, she was able to close her eyes to that part, because Nii-san genuinely loved her." Li didn't respond, and so he continued, helplessly: "It was a secret the three of us carried together. In that way, it wasn't very different from how we had grown up. Nii-san loved her. He was going to marry her. No matter what."

"What about you?"

Al felt a curious emptiness. "What about me?"

A long pause. Finally, Li continued, changing the subject slightly: "It was a contractor, wasn't it? Was the culprit found? Your brother doesn't seem as if he's enjoyed any closure on the matter. A life for a life, as they say. And a contractor's life, at that, isn't worth much."

"No. That wasn't a possibility, even if we had caught them, because Nii-san believes that murder is wrong. He wants to pass through this life being able to say that he never killed anyone, contractor or otherwise. Even throughout the war, he – "

"'Never killed anyone?'" For the second or third time Al recognized a hungry, almost alien look beneath Li's cool exterior. The contractor's jaw tightened as he bit out a laugh. "Can you two, dogs of the military, and alchemists to boot, really continue living that way?"

"Not the two of us," Al corrected him. "I have. I've caused another person's death. I didn't mean to, but – "

"How can you say it with such gravity? You caused a person's death, you didn't _kill_ them. It's no different than if you accidentally hit a drunk with a car. And it would be no different to take the life of a being without a soul."

"It is different," Al protested, feeling the conversation rapidly slipping out of his control.

"How?"

"It is."

Li shook his head. "After all, you're still children."

Whereas his brother would have been provoked to anger, Al just shook his head slightly, letting Li's words sink in. "I know that."

The contractor glanced back at him with a mixture of surprise and compassion, and seemed to be on the verge of saying something more when the first explosion echoed through the house.

* * *

Ed's brain was fuzzy from the alcohol, and further dulled by his depression at his brother's rebuke over Winry, but he still had enough wits about him that the noise of the explosion – even over the sound of the music – tore through his body like an alarm, and he sprang off the couch, listening. Hughes, leaving Gracia to Suou's care, yanked the needle from the record, and they all stood in silence, listening.

Another explosion echoed through the house, and the windows rattled in their panes. Armstrong drew back the curtains which hid the front windows, and peered out, but nothing could be seen on the silent and seemingly peaceful street.

"It's coming from behind us," Hawkeye declared, already pulling on her coat. Izumi, Kirihara and Fury followed her example. "Military headquarters. We'll be going on ahead."

"I'll stay here with the others, in case I'm needed," Armstrong added. Ed noted his resolve, which was unshaken even though he knew that his treasured niece was at the headquarters and therefore could be in danger. Havoc, too, looked frustrated that he could not join them, but not a single word of protest escaped his lips; he instead wheeled himself nearer to the sofa and patted the side of his chair where he kept his firearm.

"I'm staying as well."

"Ed, Al." Ed shifted his glance to his brother and Li as they entered the room, then back to Izumi, who was addressing them. "You must stay here. It could be dangerous."

"We will, Master," Al answered for the both of them. "Thank you."

Though silently his insides were twisting in frustration, Ed forced himself not to look at his younger brother, guilt churning with the alcohol in his stomach.

Together the remaining members of the party turned off the lights and drew all the curtains; they helped Suou, Gracia, and Havoc into the basement, followed closely by Armstrong and Sig. As they prepared to descend as well, Hughes stopped him, taking their candles and saying,

"Go. We'll be fine here. You should find out for yourselves what's going on."

For the first time in months, Ed saw the old fire return to Hughes' eyes, and he saluted briefly. The officer smiled and clapped him on the back.

"Be safe."

* * *

As they neared the headquarters, they ran into a military blockade. The soldiers seemed nervous, and none could tell them what was going on. Although the sound of the explosions had ceased, distant gunfire could be heard from inside the military complex; dark clouds, too, had gathered, and lightning flashed, looking as if it had found its way to the ground. Rain threatened to pour down, despite the freezing temperatures. Ed finally located Falman and then looped back to find Al and Li, who had crossed the blockade line and were standing near the fountain in the main stone courtyard of the headquarters. Dust filled the air, making the blockade look distant, and all was uncannily silent.

"The research laboratories have been breached; the contractors and Dolls were taken, or left." Ed wiped his sleeve over his forehead, gathering sweat and dirty. "I'm going to see it for myself. You two should stay here. Lie low and see who leaves."

Though Al wanted to protest, Li nodded. "We'll do so."

They weren't alone for long. Within a few minutes, the figure of a man, well-dressed with long dark hair, appeared in the distance and began to move toward them. He cut an eerie figure on the courtyard as the only being moving among the dust which had risen from the explosion, and Al felt a shiver run down his spine at the man's approach.

"He's a contractor," Li said.

"Can you tell what his ability is?"

"No, but I would guess it's explosive, judging from the sounds we heard earlier." Li tensed. "He's coming."

Explosive. _Winry. Elysia._ It couldn't be. The contractor was advancing rapidly. In his left hand, he held a knife dark with blood. As Al watched, he brought the knife to his own arm and sliced, bringing forth a terrible amount of blood, and with a wide sweeping motion, scattered it in their direction.

"What – " Al began, and then halted as the wind was knocked out of him and he and Li were thrown together into the dry stone fountain. Gathering himself into a defensive posture, he saw the man raise a hand dripping with blood and snap his fingers, and the ground where they had been exploded violently.

"He uses his blood as explosive material," Li surmised crisply, getting to his feet. "I'll engage him. Al, stand back."

He was about to protest when he recognized who had knocked them out of the way of the blast. Yin, who was now lying beside him, her silver eyes wide with excitement or fear. She took one of his hands and squeezed it gently.

"I can't just lie here," he protested.

"Protect Yin," Li ordered in a clipped tone, and then disappeared into the thick dust that had risen in the aftermath of the most recent explosion.

Al had no choice but to obey.

* * *

The military grounds were in chaos. Common soldiers lay slain in clumps; here and there the marks of alchemical transmutations told Ed that alchemists had engaged the escaped contractors. Mostly, however, the courtyard was eerily silent. Ed hugged the left wall and moved in stealth until he nearly bumped into a small boy Doll, sitting against the stone wall. A half-naked woman covered in blood was clutching his hand. When she saw Ed, she pleaded, "Don't let them take me."

He transmuted a hole in the wall and helped the woman – was she a contractor? he'd never seen her before – and the Doll, who looked familiar, into it, transmuting it shut behind them. He left several small, innocuous holes through which they could breathe, and promised them that he would be back for them.

_Don't let them take me._ Did that mean that there was someone here for the contractors? Ed's pace slowed again as he reached the great entrance of the headquarters. Clapping his hands and touching one of the huge stone pillars, he transmuted footholds for himself and used them to ascend, intending to get a wider view on the situation.

* * *

"My, my. Mr. Black Grim Reaper. You did a better job than we thought possible," the contractor (unknown to Hei) purred as he gathered a palmful of blood from his dripping arm. "All available personnel were in a tizzy over that Tucker alchemist's death. And luring some of our most troublesome obstacles away for a party – genius! But why did you bring the little brats back? Killing them will be such a pain."

"You don't have to kill them," Hei countered. "They know nothing. The operation is almost over. I'll go with you – leave the boy and Yin."

The contractor shook his head, adapting a mock-sad expression. "We need your Doll," he explained, coldly. "And it's doubtful that the boy will just allow you to go, after all this time. Orders said he's expendable, this time; so why wait until later to clean up?"

"Even so, I can't allow you to kill him."

Tilting his elegantly shaped head to the side, the contractor regarded Hei with something like surprise. "Are you well? You're not behaving at all in a rational manner. It's in your best interests to finish the mission as instructed."

Hei did not reply.

Sighing, the contractor shrugged. "I suppose there's nothing to be done about it, even if it will be a pity to waste your talents." The arm with the cupped hand full of blood tensed, and then he brought it up violently, scattering the droplets everywhere. Hei managed to evade, but barely; a stray drop which had landed on his boot blew a hole in it which scorched his foot. The contactor laughed, and there was the sound, through the dust, of more blood being shed. Trying to gain the upper hand, Hei launched himself at the contractor, but the contractor neatly evaded him, grinning. Desperate, realizing that if they made contact and he became bloody he would be finished, Hei reached for his ability, and stifled a scream as he crumpled to the ground.

* * *

Ed was alone on the roof only for a short while before he heard footsteps. He tensed as he turned, but it was only Armstrong's niece, Tanya. She gazed silently as him as he nodded a greeting.

"Do you know what's going on?" he asked as she approached. "It's probably not safe for you – "

He cut himself off as he saw that she was beginning to glow a faint blue. Unable to stop her, he was barely able to transmute stone guards around himself, which did not do much to keep out the steady flow of insects in any case. Dark, fat hibernating beetles, still covered in the earth in which they had been sleeping, swarmed around him, gnawing through his clothes and at his flesh. He clapped and transmuted them on fire, but they kept coming. Dimly he was aware of Tanya's presence.

"I can't allow it," she said, quietly, ripping at her hair. "I'll kill her, and I'll kill you too. You're in my way."

He rolled back and forth, trying to crush the beetles using the weight of his body. Many of the ones he'd ignited continued to gnaw, heedless of their plight, and left burns where they did so. Ed staggered to his feet and managed to get close enough to Tanya to land a blow, which staggered her and broke her concentration. The beetles ceased, but his entire body felt raw. Taking advantage of her position, Ed flipped her over and quickly traced the transmutation circle on her spine, then fell heaving for breath on the ground.

* * *

Al tensed when he heard what sounded like a body drop to the stone floor of the fountain. He positioned himself in front of Yin, defensively, and clapped his hands, drawing up a shield of stone between him and the contractor. Seconds later it exploded, and Al instinctively threw himself over Yin to shield her. He felt something wet, and shook his head, holding his hand to his face.

_Blood._

Having seen what the contractor's blood could do, he panicked before realizing that it was not the blood of the contractor, but of Yin. She lay under him, and though her body had been protected from the stone, her neck and head had been exposed. A jagged piece of rock had sliced through the former, and she lay still, expressionless, her blood seeping out over the rock bed of the fountain.

"No, no," Al moaned lowly. "No…" He gathered her body gently into his arms; transmuted the wound shut. Her head lolled lifelessly. A last shudder ran through her limbs. Overcome with grief and nausea, he closed his eyes.

* * *

Ed saw it coming. From the top of the main building, barely able to lift himself up on his elbows, his vision blurring, he managed to focus on the stone fountain below in the courtyard. His heart leapt when he saw Al splattered with blood, and then quelled momentarily when he realized that it did not belong to his younger brother. Li and Yin lay near him, unconscious or dead.

Then he saw the contractor, already beginning to glow with the blue light of the unseen transmutation, an eerie smile plastered across his face, covered in blood, his fingers poised to snap. Time seemed to freeze, then unfurl itself slowly.

He swallowed a mouthful of his own blood and gasped for air, screaming, "Al! Watch out! _Al!_" Yet Al's face was a mask of horror and nausea, and he barely seemed to register his older brother's terrified screams. As Ed watched, the dry fountain in which Al and the contractor stood shivered in his vision, slightly; the contractor's smile widened, and then the scene before him exploded with light.

"AL!"


	10. Gone

It was the worst pain Hei had ever felt in his life. It felt as if someone had jammed a steel pipe through his lower spine, and then poured acid into the open wound. Momentarily he lost consciousness; swaying, he managed to catch himself on his hands and knees. The floor felt wet. Another wave of pain seized him, and he retched, but nothing came up. Then his vision cleared and he saw that the wetness beneath him was blood. He looked up.

A few feet away stood the contractor. Grinning, ready to snap and blow Al to pieces. The young alchemist was seemingly paralyzed, clutching Yin's mangled corpse in his arms. Unable to believe that he'd failed to save her.

The pain and grief threatened to knock Hei out again, and he forced himself to tear his eyes from Yin's body. Focusing all the strength he had left, he tensed and drew on his abilities.

Crackling electricity exploded from underneath his palms. He directed it to follow the trail of blood and intensified it as much as he dared. The fountain grew alive with light. The contractor had quit laughing; his expression became horrified as the paralyzing electricity raced through his body. Mindless, desiring blood, Hei unconsciously squeezed harder. The electricity appeared as ropes around the contractor, squeezing, tightening. He threw back his head and screamed. Hei could feel the contractor's internal organs start to hemorrhage, and the blood vessels in his face rupture. He pressed further, until he felt the skull fracture, and finally, finally, allowed himself to cease. He fell into the pool of blood, breathing heavily. Distantly he was aware of a presence at his side. "Al?"

"Shh. Don't speak."

His last thoughts, before he lost consciousness, were of Yin.

* * *

He had to get down; to see if his brother was all right. A rising cloud of dust obscured his vision, and his flesh was littered with burns and bruises, streaked in blood, but Al was all he could think about. Ed knew, however, that he couldn't simply leave Tanya on the roof, even if the transmutation array would keep her from accessing her powers – at least, until she discovered it. His heart twisting within him, he realized that securing her had to be his first priority.

With difficulty he rose and half-dragged, half-carried Tanya to the door protruding from the otherwise flat expanse of roof. Transmuting it open, he cautiously dragged the both of them down the flight of stairs which let them out on the uppermost level of the military headquarters' main building.

"I heard something."

Ed froze. Unrecognizable voices from further down the corridor.

"You're imagining things. I've killed all the ones in the building. This level should be empty."

The tone was unmistakable: contractor.

He flattened himself to the wall as best he could while carrying Tanya as around the corner two figures came into view, male and female, both armed. Ed did not recognize either of them.

The male was covered in an unwieldy, haphazard rock armor, out of which only his sneering face jutted. The female carried a long sword and wore a well-tailored black suit, and was currently absorbed in the process of wiping dust and grime from her shoulders. Seeming not to notice him, the two paused to exchange a languid kiss, after which the woman wiped her mouth primly on the back of her hand. Hefting Tanya over the shoulder half-made of automail, Ed reached around awkwardly, trying to complete a circuit by clapping while simultaneously not drawing any unwanted attention.

"Stay your hand," came the smooth order from behind him. "You're a mess, Fullmetal."

The contractors drew to attention. Ed blinked grit and blood from his eyes. "Mustang? What's going on?"

"No time for lengthy explanations." The colonel gestured lightly, and the female contractor glided up to him and, sheathing her sword, held out her arms to take the limp Tanya. He acquiesced with a kind of astonishment, noting that though she was slim her strength was impressive. "Suffice it for now to say that these two are your comrades."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," the male said, bowing awkwardly. The female said nothing – there was not even a hint of interest in her violet eyes. Beyond any shadow of doubt they were contractors.

Though he was troubled, and confused, Ed's concern for his brother overrode all of his other impulses. He explained to Mustang, briefly, after he refused medical attention.

"I understand." For a moment there was a trace of the former Mustang, stony resolve in the line of his mouth, until he relaxed and the calm, pleasant veneer slid back into place. "Genma will escort you. Better carry him."

"Roger that." The male contractor again lumbered down awkwardly, and though Ed's instinct was to pull away, he accepted the outstretched shoulder. When the contractor righted himself, the top of Ed's head scraped against the ceiling briefly before he ducked it back down.

There were countless questions racing through his head, but Ed lay them aside. Tightening his grip on the contractor, he urged, "Hurry."

* * *

_Such power… _In spite of himself, Al marveled at Li's concentration as he managed to break the array and attacked the other contractor. _He's in agony, but he's sacrificing himself for me…_

Yin's body was heavy and cold in his arms. He laid her down gently, closing her sightless eyes with a thumb and forefinger. As the air around them came alive with electricity, Al struggled to pull himself up, but sank under the combination of a twisted wrist and what felt, through the numbness of shock, like a broken leg. Glancing back quickly, he confirmed his suspicions: his left leg lay at a sickeningly odd angle, and blood had stained the material of his pants dark.

Something snapped behind him, and Al shifted himself around again, looking upward. The contractor had risen slightly in the air, and was convulsing grotesquely, ringed in halos of crackling electricity. Managing to pull himself away from Yin on his elbows, the young alchemist vomited the contents of his stomach onto the broken ground, the sour taste of half-digested wine and fear mingling on his tongue. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and dragged himself forward as quickly as he could, calling out to Li. The rubble cut into his palms and elbows, and finally pain signals from his mangled leg reached his brain. He forced himself to move through it, and reached Li's side just as the contractor collapsed.

The older man's face was pale as plaster and clammy with sweat, but his lips were dry and cracked, and beginning to bleed. He trembled convulsively as Al clapped and laid hands on him, checking his vitals, and then slipped an arm under his shoulders, lifting his head from the ground. His hair dripped with blood. The ground beneath them was soaked in it. "Al…?"

"Shh. Don't speak." He directed the words into his own chest, hoping the smell of vomit on his breath would not reach Li. With his free hand he yanked up the hem of the contractor's shirt, reached his stomach, and traced in blood and grime the reversal array. When he activated it, Li's breathing eased considerably.

They lay there together, exhausted: Li evidently unconscious, Al's mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do. It was the first time he had been seriously debilitated by the injury of his real body; if he were still armor, he could have made do somehow, could have transmuted himself back together with rubble from the ground and gotten them both to safety…

_Ground. Stupid_. Al shook his head, reaching over Li to trace the simple array among the crumbled stone with his free hand. A shelter of stone rose over them. Though it was by no means a perfect solution, they were less exposed, and he felt he could relax a little. His head dropped, and his cheek was pressed to Li's forehead. A ringing noise was making itself heard in his ears. His body felt heavy, like stone. _I must stay awake – I must – _

_

* * *

_The courtyard was in shambles, but eerily quiet. Off in the distance, over the walls, the voices of the men at the barricade were audible, but nothing stirred within their range of view. The contractor moved as slowly as if he was, in truth, made from rock, and Ed felt his shattered nerves fray further.

"Can't you move any faster?"

Placidly, Genma replied, "Could be an ambush, sir…best to be cautious…"

Cursing, Ed shifted his weight and jumped down from the contractor's shoulder. He expected the bearded man to protest, but he continued to stroll placidly, sweeping the area with his gaze, as Ed stumbled ahead, yelling, "Al!"

His voice echoed back at him tauntingly from all corners. Faintly, he could hear the sound of water dripping, and he propelled himself blindly through the dust that had risen toward its source. If the contractor objected to his actions, he gave no sign of it, and eventually Ed lost him in the swirling, choking air. He pulled the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth to filter out the worst of it.

"Al!" Inhaling deeply to carry his voice further, he choked on the dry, grimy air and fell into a coughing fit which ended with him practically on his knees, coughing up sandy phlegm. As he spat the last of it on the ground, faintly, he swore he heard his brother's voice.

He forced himself to his feet and into a light jog. "Al? Where are you?"

There was a moment of silence, and he gnawed his tongue with worry, suppressing another series of coughs which left him weak and watery-eyed. Then, he heard the faint sound again:

"Nii-san – here – "

The dust was somewhat lighter in that direction. Ed's gaze fell upon an unrecognizable corpse, twisted and blackened beyond human form. Though his heart leapt to his throat, he reminded himself wildly that there was no way his brother could call for him if he was dead.

An irregular stone mass, somewhat further away. Blood pooling on the ground, freezing in the night air. Transmutation marks…despite the pain in his body, Ed ran, clapping and touching his fingers to the ground as he did so. The stone crumbled away.

His brother and Li were there, curled up like grubs, covered in blood. A mixture of profanity and animal noises poured from his mouth as he staggered to Al's side and knelt next to him, wanting to gather him into his arms but afraid that he would injure him further.

"Nii-san…"

"God, Al, I thought – "

"I'm fine," Al reassured him, having inched away from Li enough to place his head, affectionately, against his brother's knees. Even in such a situation, he offered his older brother an encouraging smile. "It's only my leg."

Ed glanced down swiftly and then away just as quickly, afraid he would be sick, terrified at the thought of showing Al his fear. Instead he reached down with one hand and tousled Al's hair, streaked with sweat and dust, and placed the other hand on his chest, pressing gently until he felt the beat of Al's heart. The younger Elric winced just perceptibly and Ed drew back, realizing he'd used his automail on his brother's chest, without even considering it.

"It's okay," Al assured him again. "Nii-san, are you hurt?"

"No," he lied without thinking. "No, I'm just glad you're okay…" His flesh hand kept moving automatically through his brother's hair, fingertips rubbing small, individual circles over Al's scalp. The latter closed his eyes briefly and sighed,

"That feels good."

His heart lurched desperately in his chest like a pig on a chopping block. He was seized with the impulse to throw his entire body over his brother's, to protect him, to meld with him, give his own body for Al's. Steeling himself, he forced the hand in Al's hair to remain steady, and moved it down over his brother's face, touching forehead, nose, cheeks, chin and finally coming to rest on Al's lips, lightly. Their eyes met, and Ed was about to join their lips when Al broke contact with him, turning his head to the side to gaze at Li, and said,

"Nii-san, he saved my life."

Averted desire, plundering terror, and grief held in abeyance washed through him; but when he was purged of these recent emotions, all that remained behind was a sickening, curious emptiness. He watched his brother's wondering eyes upon the contractor's unconscious face, and felt only a helpless envy; a sense of somehow having been tricked and betrayed. His legs were numb from kneeling; he stood. Al looked back at his brother, surprised at the broken contact, and looking down at him, Ed answered coldly,

"He's the reason you almost died."

The look of uncomprehending hurt on Al's face was nearly enough to make him take back his words, but there came footsteps behind them, and Ed turned away.

* * *

There were various protests from those of rank who were present, but Central was still in a fair state of chaos, and in a relatively short period of time Ed had bullied his way to what he wanted: they were not taken to the hospital, but returned to their quarters, and Mei was sent for to accompany them. At such a time, the alchemist reasoned, the military hospital was likely to be full, which only exacerbated his usual dislike of the place. But even if it were empty, he was disposed to take alkahestric medicine over common any day, especially where the welfare of his brother was concerned. He'd ordered the contractor Genma to the place where he had hidden the frightened contractor and the young Doll, and commanded a few petty officers to help him move Al and Li.

Though the outer complex had been devastated, their quarters seemed clear; the elevator was not in working order, however, and the power had been cut. They moved in silence through the darkness, illuminated only by the flame Ed kept alit in his hand. Al had not spoken a word to him; had not even glanced his way once, since they had come into the company of others.

It took some time to maneuver through the stairwells, but Ed was still surprised to find Mei already waiting for them.

"I came when I heard the explosions," she explained breathlessly as she stood on her tip-toes to examine the patients. "Alphonse, how are you feeling?"

"Woozy," the alchemist answered honestly, but there was a cheerfulness in his voice. "I'm sure you won't have any trouble patching me up."

"I hope not. There are lots of other people to tend to, but I wanted to see to you first…" So saying, Mei followed the officers in, blushing a little. "Oh – thank you – Edward, if you could transmute a couch into a cot for Al? A low one, please, so I can work. And who is the other patient? Oh…" Mei's voice trailed off as she examined Li by the light of her own transmuted flame. Abruptly, she turned to the officers who were carrying him. "Please take him into the bedroom and lay the stretcher on the bed. Absolutely do not move him from it."

"Mei?" Al called as she followed them in. "Is Li alright?"

"He'll be fine," she called back, her voice falsely bright. "I'll be with you in just a second! Ed, come with me."

The men lowered Li to the bed as gently as they could, and saluted when Ed dismissed them. Despite himself, he felt a pang of worry for the prone contractor, and tried to suppress it as he transmuted and lit candles around the room, giving Mei enough light to work by.

"This is bad, Ed," she confessed as she ran small palms over Li's inert body, tracing small arrays and activating them so that they glowed briefly in the dark, like bioluminescence. "Honestly, you and Al would probably do best to treat him yourselves."

Ed recoiled instinctively. "What? Why?"

"You have the most complete knowledge of contractor physiology. Right now I'm making him comfortable and healing small wounds, but…Ed, there's a bigger problem."

"Which is…"

"I can't feel his chi at all." Her face was pale and lit eerily in the candlelight, large black eyes shining. Ed glanced back at Li's form, but the contractor appeared only to be lying there with his eyes closed. He was bloody, and his clothes were rent, but had no open wounds.

"He is alive, though."

"Yes. Well, he's breathing. His brain is functioning. Beyond that, I can't…" Mei shrugged, indicating the smudged array on the contractor's abdomen. "That's Al's work, isn't it? I haven't ever seen its like before."

"It must be his; it's to cancel out the inhibition array." Brief concern rapidly evaporating, Ed found himself glaring at Li with contempt. So Al had unleashed the dog; what for? He was probably faking it.

Turning away, he ignored the pleading in Mei's eyes. "Alright. I'll see to him – after Al."

Reluctantly, the young girl followed after him, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

It was something of a wonder to watch Mei work, and for however short a period of time, Ed was distracted from his brooding thoughts. He played the role of her assistant, fetching water, boiling it, transmuting gauze from strips of fabric ripped from the couch. Slowly the panic which had threatened to consume him earlier that night since he had seen what he thought was his brother's death started to fade. Mei resembled a cunning, industrious insect as she mended Al's broken leg. She had coaxed him into a light, drug-aided sleep for the procedure, and Ed was able to gaze upon his brother as much as he liked without fearing a stony rebuke or worse, gentle disappointment. As Mei hummed to herself, absorbed in reconciling the bone fragments to knit, Ed permitted his flesh hand to rest on his brother's shoulder, fingers rubbing absently.

"Edward? I'm almost done."

Embarrassed, Ed withdrew, but Mei gave him a knowing smile and inclined her head toward the basin of warm water he'd prepared for the surgery. "Why don't you wash him up? We don't want any of his minor wounds to get infected." When Ed hesitated, she reassured him, "He won't wake for a little while now. I mended the bone naturally, which will take longer, but it'll be his own tissue in there and not anything foreign. I'm not used to it, so I'm a little tired, and I have to concentrate on stitching him back up, otherwise I'd do it myself."

Shaking his head a little at his own foolishness, Ed retrieved some soap and a sponge from the bathroom. Li did not appear to have moved, and when Ed checked his pulse and breathing, both were regular.

"Fool," Ed muttered to himself as he exited, closing the door behind him.

* * *

Though he could feel nothing below his waist, Al was vaguely aware of the sensation of his upper body lifting from the cot. Then he realized that he was unclothed save for a thin sheet over his groin, and he felt wonder first, and then brief shame. Next he registered a dampness on his chest and face, and then – a soft rubbing sensation on his back; the sound of a sponge being wrung out into a bucket of water; a metal arm against the back of his neck.

_Nii-san's giving me a sponge bath._

Ed hadn't done that since the last time Al was bedridden, right after his body had been restored from the Gate. Remembering that time brought a strange, inappropriate sensation rushing down through his sternum and into the pit of his stomach, where it certainly would have gone lower if not for the drugs that Mei had given him, and for which he was suddenly extremely grateful.

Warm water dripped in rivulets down his back. "What about this - ?" Ed's voice was a low whisper, but Al felt the vibration of it through his automail. There was a pause, in which Al recovered the full depth of his anger with his brother; but he was still too weak to do anything about it.

"Ointment should be fine. Dry him off and dab it on. I took care of his legs, so this is the last bit."

"I should probably wash his hair, too…"

"It's fine for now. Edward, your turn. Let me look at those wounds."

He felt his brother's stubborn refusal in the clenching of his muscles before he heard him. The ointment smelled sharp and clean. "I'm fine."

"Honestly…" Al felt himself lowered and then warmth flooded his scalp. Mei sighed loudly, and then his brother's clumsy hands were swatted away and replaced by a pair of smaller, defter ones. They traced a spiral, and Al's hair lifted up on end, causing him to shiver as the moisture and dirt were siphoned out. A blanket was laid over his body, and finally he felt the presences at his side move away.

"Your turn. Let's go."

Ed groaned in what was meant to sound like a complaint, but Al detected the real pain beneath the façade, and his anger diminished a little with worry for his brother.

A pause. "What exactly…?"

"Ran into Armstrong's niece. Whatever happened today, she was in on it."

"That's terrible." Silence. "The beetles that bit you, what did they look like?"

"Mmm…brown? They had been hibernating, I think. Why?" Ed coughed. "You're not gonna tell me they're poisonous, are you?"

"Thankfully for you, no. But this isn't going to feel great."

"Woah, what about the ointm – ow!"

"Might as well take care of you as quickly as possible," Mei said crisply. "Since you were 'fine' to begin with, and since I've got to get to the other wounded. Tell Al when he wakes up that everything went fine, and that I'll send along a couple of crutches sometime in the next few days. I'm leaving you with these, and you should use them as needed. Until then – don't let him get up! Carry him or whatever you need to do."

Al scowled inwardly at the idea. Ed grunted his assent and showed Mei out. As he closed the door and turned around, Al opened his eyes and craned his neck a little. "Hey."

"Welcome back. How long have you been awake?"

"Awhile." Momentarily, Al enjoyed making his brother flush and squirm, before his vision went blurry and his neck gave out, and he was forced to lay flat again. Addressing the ceiling, Al added, "So you say something like that, and then you give me a bath…"

"Mei told me to."

"Probably because you were standing around wringing your hands." Al sighed. "How's Li?"

An uncomfortable pause.

"Don't make me crane my neck, please, Nii-san."

Reluctantly obliging his brother, Ed pulled up a chair and sat beside the cot. His skin was flushed a strange, angry-looking shade of red, and he was still filthy himself from the elbows up.

"Mei," he explained in response to Al's raised eyebrows. "Whatever she did, it felt like I'd just been injected with something molten."

"Hm." Al was too tired to offer his sympathy. "So…?"

"I shouldn't have said what I did. I was upset. I'm sorry."

Surprised, Al turned his head to the side, seeking out his brother's eyes. Ed was hesitant to look directly at him, and sat with his elbows on his knees, running one hand absently over his head.

"Mei couldn't do anything for Li. He's alive," Ed continued quickly, at Al's stricken expression, "but she couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. She thought we might be able to do something. For now, though, he's okay. Just resting."

His gaze unfocusing, Al replayed what of the night's events he remembered. The other contractor's ability was explosive…that meant…he glanced back at his brother, who seemed extremely interested in a threadbare patch over his automail leg. Resolving to tell his brother later, as it didn't seem pertinent at the moment, and was guaranteed to upset him further, he offered what he did remember that might be helpful:

"Li broke through the inhibition array on his own, in order to save me. I think that's what nearly killed him."

Ed snapped his head up. His golden eyes gleamed in the half-light. "He _broke_ through it?"

"Mmn."

Thoughtfully, the older brother dropped his chin into his automail palm with a _clunk_, and then winced as his over-sensitized skin responded in kind. Al laughed, and Ed looked abashed. "Don't make fun of me. I'm trying to figure out how to help your friend, here."

The effect of the drug was wearing off, and tingling sensation was returning to his body. The pain in his leg had been replaced with a dull pressure, and the rest of his body ached, but on the whole he felt drowsy and warm, and glad he was alive.

With great effort, Al hoisted himself up on his palms and slid his upper body over as far as he could, motioning for Ed to join him. "He's your friend, too."

Hesitantly, restraining his eagerness, the alchemist slid into the cot beside his brother, letting his automail leg dangle off for fear it would chill him, and bringing his flesh hand over to touch Al's cheek.

Al closed his eyes languidly, allowing his brother the caress, when a knock came at the door. Ed swore, swinging himself over the side of the cot, and Al sighed in disapproval, propping himself on his elbows to see their visitor.

He expected another medic, or perhaps a member of the party they'd attended, with an update about the terrorist activity. Instead it was a trio of armed officers in uniform, who saluted curtly when Ed opened the door but then forced their way in as the alchemist sputtered in protest. Two of them headed for the bedroom, while the tallest explained to Ed,

"We're here for the contractor who has been staying with you."

"He's wounded," Al protested. "He's been with us all night."

"This is an arrest."

The brothers gaped.

"On what grounds?" Ed finally managed to spit out. There were crashing noises from the bedroom, but before he could bring himself to investigate, the officer shoved a piece of parchment under his nose.

"Arrest warrant, signed by the Fuhrer. He's accused of the crimes attributed to the Black Grim Reaper, alias Hei. The charges of murder are too numerous to give proper account."

Shaking his head, Al interrupted the warrant officer: "That can't be true. His name is Li. He's been staying with us, he can't have committed any murders…"

"We're sorry, Major Elric, but we're under orders from Colonel Mustang himself. It's a non-negotiable arrest. He comes with us wounded or well, whole or in pieces."

"_Mustang?_" Ed's mind was awhirl.

The officers who had burst into the bedroom re-emerged, their faces harsh in the candlelight, shaking their heads. "Where is he?"

"He was right in there – he was unconscious, if he's not there I don't know where he is."

The warrant officer fixed his gaze on Ed, his eyes narrowing. "He couldn't possibly have escaped in his condition without some kind of assistance."

Ed glared back at him. "Isn't he supposed to be a mass murderer? Is it so unbelievable that he had some kind of contingency plan?"

They glowered at each other for a few seconds. Finally, having apparently decided that it was not worth his trouble, the warrant officer snapped at the two who accompanied him:

"Alert the residential security at once!"

Turning to leave, he saluted, but his face was sour. "Respectfully, sirs, if we do find that either of you aided in his escape, we'll have to hold you accountable."

Ed slammed the door in his face.


	11. Interlude: Mistake

A/N: For those of you who have been reading for awhile, I put this story through a major overhaul with my last update, including the addition of another interlude chapter (War) and significant revision of every other chapter. I'm still not entirely satisfied, but for now it'll have to do. I do feel like the plot has gotten away from me a bit – originally this was supposed to be the last interlude chapter, but it looks like there'll be one more after this one (in a couple more chapters' time). Eventually I might do a major structural overhaul; we'll see. Anyway, thank you very much for the reviews, and I hope you continue to enjoy! I'm on fire with this one right now, so you can expect regular updates until I indicate otherwise.

* * *

The light of morning came in what seemed like a matter of hours, time collapsing in upon itself. Al was sleeping, the first shades of light making starkly visible the hollows in his cheeks; the outlines of his ribs where the sheets gaped over his side. He had fallen asleep almost directly after the ill-fated kiss, and aside from seeking out his brother's hand to hold in his own, did not stir for the rest of the night.

Ed had not slept.

Carefully, trying his best not to jostle or wake his younger brother, he detached his sweaty flesh hand from his brother's, slid himself from the bed and landed with a light thump on the floor, balancing his weight on his flesh leg. His automail leg had been completely destroyed, right up to the port, but they hadn't yet replaced it, Winry had explained to him, because it would have been too risky while he was unconscious. "And it took me time," she confessed, blushing a little with embarrassment, "to build a spare."

Thinking of how becoming that shyness had looked on her face brought Ed some measure of relief as he struggled up the stairs. Whatever crazed passion – of possession, or of desperation – that had taken hold of him in the recesses of the night, it dissipated in the light of day. He yearned to see Winry and speak with her; to erase what he had believed he felt for Al by replacing it with his fondness for her. What existed between Winry and him was real; what had happened with Al was a mistake, and amounted to nothing so sure as an 'existence' at all. Uneasily, he prayed Al would remember nothing.

When he finally reached his room, Izumi was waiting for him.

So exhausted was he from his sleepless night and his confusion over what had happened with Al that he barely registered his Master's fist sweeping a broad arc before connecting directly with his skull. He staggered backwards, but before he could fall she had seized him by the collar of the shirt and struck him again, aiming him in the general direction of the bed. His body hit the side of it and slumped into a limp heap on the floor, pain exploding from the frayed artificial nerves in his damaged automail leg.

Shaking his head to clear it, Ed gazed upward dumbfounded at his towering Master.

"Idiot," she said. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"I don't – "

"Do you know how much _noise_ a person on a crutch makes when they walk around in the dead of night?"

Ed's eyes widened as he felt his stomach clench sickeningly. The expression on Izumi's face, shifting through ranges of anger, disappointment, and revulsion, was all too telling. He forced himself to meet her gaze and hold it, despite the pain in his gut.

"You saw what happened."

Black eyes flashed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're damn right I did. And if I wasn't worried about the possibility of Al having another episode I would have gone in and straightened you out right there."

Silence, while Ed considered how to respond. It would have perhaps been best if he remained without speaking, but instead he found himself spitting out, "It's none of your concern."

For a moment, he was sure that his Master would strike him again, but she seemed to take note of the beads of sweat that stood out on his forehead and directed her fist into the bed beside him instead. "None of my – Ed, your father gave his _life_ to bring Al's body back from the Gate. Is this how you intend to repay him?"

"That bastard," Ed ground out between teeth clenched so tightly he swore he could hear them crumbling, as his stomach curdled within him, "owed Al at least that much, after what he did..."

"And what about Al? Think, you idiot! What kind of life are you damning your brother to? He's barely holding onto his own body – what right do you have to impose your desire on him? You know he'd do anything for you; he wouldn't even _think_ about making a decision, he'd just cede to whatever you wanted."

The truth in his Master's words turned the churning bile in his stomach molten. Turning his head to the side, he vomited, equally from pain and humiliation. The room wobbled around him, and he closed his eyes, utterly ashamed. Vaguely he was aware of Izumi yanking him up by his flesh arm and tossing him into the bed, and fetching solvent and water to clean up the mess on the floor.

Something light and round was shoved in his lap. "If you're going to bring up any more of your guts, at least make it easier to clean up."

Ed opened his eyes. A small washbasin. In its smudged tin bottom he could perceive his distorted reflection.

"You're wrong. About it being my desire."

Izumi paused in her cleaning, her expression inscrutable.

"What I did was unforgiveable, but it wasn't because I wanted to; it wasn't on a whim. He was losing it again. I just – I didn't know what else to do, I was afraid – I did whatever I could. " Helplessly, Ed twisted flesh and automail fingers together in his lap. "It worked."

As she resumed her footing and looked at him, Ed thought that her gaze had softened a bit.

"It didn't mean anything," he continued, and the words as he pronounced them both soothed and terrified him. "It won't ever happen again."

"Hm." One soft, but monstrously strong hand clapped him on the shoulder. The conversation had ended. His master intended to interrogate him no further. Gratefully, Ed leaned back against the pillows, allowing his eyes to half-close.

Surprisingly, Izumi continued speaking, her hand retaining its firm grip. "Ed. Winry was with me."

_Fuck._

* * *

The knock at the door was soft for such a large hand, and the power that radiated behind it. Hohenheim opened the door and stuck his head inside, looking for his younger son. "We're almost ready."

From where he sat cross-legged on the floor in the room without any light, Al lifted his gaze from his lap, where he'd been lost in silent meditation. "Father…"

"I didn't want to have to say my goodbyes to the both of you separately, but your brother refused to hear me out."

Al shook his head. "He's just being stubborn. He'll regret it; I know he will."

"I was the same at his age, so I can't exactly blame him." Hohenheim crossed the room and somewhat awkwardly lowered himself to the ground to crouch beside his son. Al shifted over, trying to focus on his father's face in the dim light. Was it his imagination playing tricks on him, or was the stony visage wet with tears? "Alphonse. I'm so proud of you and your brother."

"Proud? Of the sin we – "

"Of the determination and courage you've shown. Of the wisdom beyond your years. I'm proud of my sons. You helped to thwart the destruction of an entire country. When I am gone, I trust that you will continue to fight. I cannot think of a more just way to use this sinful body than to repent for the suffering I caused both of you with my absence. My only regret," and here Hohenheim reached out to clasp one of Al's armored, clumsy hands, and squeeze it hard enough so that Al could feel the pressure, "is that I will never be able to hold you – all of you – in my arms one last time, to say goodbye."

If his armor body had eyes, tear ducts, Al was sure he would have wept. Instead, the cavity gaping inside his body seemed to clench, and he squeezed his father's hand back gently. "I'm here. Right now, I'm here."

"So you are."

It was then, as Hohenheim got to his knees to awkwardly embrace his son's armored body as best he could, that the door to the room was pushed open wider, and Ed's face appeared briefly before withdrawing. Al called out to him, but the alchemist was already heading back down the corridor, calling after him,

"We're ready."

* * *

The gate was bizarre. Al's previous memory, of a vast, pure white expanse broken only by the intricately carved monolith of stone, could have not prepared him for the second experience of standing at the doors of the gate.

It had been thrown open, and beings strange and occult seethed in and out of it; some yowling in agony, some silent, some babbling in strange tongues. As far as the eye could see, bodies of all shapes and sizes wandered aimlessly, lay upon the ground, spun in crazy circles and fell down again. Their bodies were black, grey, white; their faces distorted with pain. Al turned about in circles, calling, "Nii-san? Father?"

Izumi, who had activated the large array beneath them, had remained behind. Ed had pressed his palms to Al's chest, and Hohenheim to Al's back. And then…

"Son." A hand on his shoulder. "I'll be going on ahead."

Al turned to face Hohenheim, but he was already striding forward, his broad back conveying nothing. He reached the boundary of the gate, paused, and then, sweeping aside the monstrosities which crowded the entrance, entered in.

Something whistled past Al's head. Hands took hold of his feet, arms, head. He willed himself to be still. Although he could barely sense it, he knew somehow that the creatures' touch was cold and clammy.

"Al!" Somewhere, his brother was calling for him.

"Nii-san!"

"Al!" Struggling to throw off the bodies which threatened to smother him, Ed was limping toward him, dragging a twisted mess of automail where his leg had once been. Blood ran down his face from a hidden wound on his head. In his arms –

"My body."

Ed managed a grin, but it looked more like a grimace, half-stained as it was with blood. "Mm. Pulled it out. Looks okay, right?"

The younger brother was afraid to answer. Trembling slightly, he laid one armored hand on his body's forehead. It was frighteningly gaunt, and the hair and nails were those of an old man: long and disheveled. Yet it was the right size and shape for his age, if just barely.

"Seems like you were right about me eating and sleeping for two. Or one and a half, at least." Gently, as best he could, Ed lowered himself to his flesh knee, balancing Al's body across it. "Hurry, or we'll get sucked back in. It's no good for me to take it. It'll only go back with you."

As Al reached down to embrace his body, as his soul leapt to find itself within its original home, he was suddenly and terrifyingly aware of the look in his body's eyes – not blank, but not aware, and with an all too uncanny glint of self-preservation.

* * *

"Good afternoon." The stiffness and distance in Winry's tone was enough to make his stomach threaten to expel the small amount of food he'd managed to force down for lunch. Ed forced himself to look in her direction, but her gaze was fixed determinedly at the floor. She was wearing a blue traveling cloak, and carried a satchel of the same hue and material.

"Winry," he began, but she cut him off.

"I bought some things for Al in the marketplace. I wasn't sure exactly what things he might like, so." Fumbling, she upended the satchel and spread its contents over the bed across Ed's legs. He leaned forward to sift through them, eyes widening.

"Incense." Bringing it to his nose, he inhaled. A spiced citrus scent. "Records…scarves?"

"They're fabric samples. Just different textures and colors. Ms. Izumi thought it might be good to expose Al to a variety of sights and sensations. You know, when a baby is born, the parents do the same? With rattles and picture books and things, to stimulate its brain. Well, Al is a little old for toys. I did buy a handball, though, for playing catch." Still she would not look at him. "And pastels, and some paints…since it might be a long recovery…there's some local minerals in there as well. I thought he might have fun trying to transmute with them. I stored the food and perishable stuff in the pantry downstairs. I think I bought enough to last us near a month…"

"Winry," he repeated, reaching out for her hand with his own. She shifted away just beyond the range of his arm, looking out of the window. Looking completely lost.

"I wasn't sure what he might like," she repeated. "I did something I probably shouldn't have. Forgive me, Ed."

_Isn't it I who should be –_

Glancing down at her outstretched hand, he suddenly understood. Clutched between her quivering fingers, battered and threatening to fall to pieces, was Al's journal.

Ed declined to accept it, so she dropped it on the bed among the rest of the scattered items and practically fell into a chair, leaning back and placing one hand across her eyes. "I shouldn't have read it, but I knew he kept a list of all the things he wanted to eat and do once he got his body back in there."

Finally he found his tongue. "Yeah, he did." Pause. "I still don't understand why that means you have to apologize to me."

"Because I saw what happened last night, and I – " Though she did not remove her hand, and her lips trembled, she didn't seem to be crying, either. "I never thought of how selfish I was being, that I expected something from you when – when you belonged – "

"_Winry. _Look at me, will you?"

She paused, her whole arm fairly shaking now, and lowered it a little, one blue eye wavering at the edge of her peripheral vision, and then locked on Ed's face.

"I don't know what you read in Al's journal, but what you saw last night was a mistake." The words were sour on his tongue. His body felt wooden as he forced them out. "It didn't mean…I didn't know what else…"

"Ed…"

His automail hand curled into an involuntary fist on top of the sheets. "Anyway, it's never going to happen again."

Now it was Ed who could not bear to meet Winry's steady gaze. "Are you sure about that?"

He forced a smile, and looked back at her. "Positive. I said I'd make you cry tears of joy when we got our bodies back, right? So I'll never forgive myself if you cry for me now." Forcibly he unclenched his fists, reminding himself of reality. _This is real. Winry and I are real. _What had happened with he and Al was the height of illusion. A madness born of desperation.

How to describe the mixture of joy and sorrow that shot through his limbs like poison when she clasped his flesh hand within hers, and her gentle reply: "But you haven't regained your body yet. So I won't cry at all."

* * *

Evening. Winry had remained for several hours in the room with him, filling the dreary space with her bright talk and laughter. While Ed dozed, she straightened the place up, using some of the fabric she'd brought to hang makeshift curtains over the window, boiling the peel of a lemon over the stove. The room looked to have been, at one time, a one-room apartment – there was a sink and stove in one corner, and a small bathroom adjacent. A good place for a temporary hospital room. Once Ed had slept (or so Winry assumed, but he hadn't, in actuality, been able to give himself over to rest) she rejoined him at his bedside and, after asking permission, drew back the sheets to examine his automail.

After all these years, she was the only one who had touched him where flesh and automail joined, causing the near-unbearable pain/pleasure to rush through his body. Ed grit his teeth and drew an arm across his eyes to hide the extent to which he was affected, but his body, writhing on the bed, was enough indication. Winry kept one hand firmly braced against his hip bone while she examined the port on his leg.

"This is no good," she announced, drawing up her sleeves. "I'm going to detach what's left of the leg. As it is, I'm going to have to go into the port and re-construct most of the connections."

"No – port – replacements?" Ed managed to wrench out.

"Maybe in a few years, if you ever drink your milk and get around to growi – "

"HEY."

"Sorry." Nimble, slim fingers ducked inside his leg, and the gasp he gave was not entirely decent. "I do have some good news, though."

"Do – tell."

"Your father left the two of you with all of his assets." Though Ed couldn't see her face, Winry's voice was surprisingly calm. "He specifically instructed me to use a portion and do whatever I thought was best for your automail." Pause. An electric sensation zipping up the stump of his leg and churning around in his stomach before shooting directly to his brain told Ed that she had detached the first nerve. "So when this is all over, you'll have a new arm and leg after all. I know it's not what you hoped for, but I hope they'll be useful to you. They're the newest models, all updated alloys. I think you'll really like the feel of them…"

"No," Ed replied, taking a deep breath as she disconnected another major nerve. "I'm fine. We were able to – " another gasp concealed as an intake of breath " – reach our goal. Winry – thank you."

For a moment, her hand rested on his bare thigh, above the port.

By the time she had finished up, whether by the soothing quality of her presence, or sheer exhaustion, Ed had fallen asleep.

* * *

When he woke, it was the dead of night again. His body was exhausted, but his mind would not rest, insistently returning to the thought that his brother lay below him, suspended between life and death, trapped yet again in a cage that his soul, like a desperate rat, kept flinging itself against the walls of. Ed threw the covers back and hobbled to the bathroom, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Returning, panting slightly from his exertion, his eyes fell upon the bedside table, and upon it, Al's journal. Evidently unsure what to do with it, Winry had left it there without a word.

He seized upon it without thinking and began flipping through, skimming the worn pages. Al's handwriting was sloppy, but his sketches – as always – were intricately executed, despite the handicap of his clumsy armored hands. Ed skipped from page to page, never reading more than a few lines at a time:

_Apple pie_

_Roast beef _

_Ice cream_

_Spaghetti (the kind with butter and garlic) _

_Lamb stew_

_I'd like to learn how to swim. I'm a little afraid, though. I can imagine the sensation of drowning, and it frightens me._

_Nii-san is sleeping again. That's no surprise. Nii-san is _usually _sleeping. Even though it seems this body can drift off from time to time, I can't find rest. Well, I don't need to find it. But this body can't dream, either. When I see Nii-san snoring as he does, with his body all splayed out, I wonder what he's dreaming. I wonder if my original body can see the same dream as his…_

_I wonder if my body can see at all… _

_When Mr. Sig patted me on the head, how wonderful it felt. He's taller than I am, too, and maybe bigger. The memory of that moment, a rare one for me in this body, will stay with me._

_When Nii-san has nightmares, I never know whether to wake him or not. I know he needs to sleep, and if I wake him, maybe he won't be able to get back to sleep. But maybe he's not truly at rest, the way he tosses and turns, and the things he says in his sleep. He'll be angry if I wake him, and grumpy if I don't._

_Nii-san went for a haircut today and came back disgruntled because the barber didn't follow his instructions. He wouldn't like to think so, but he's pretty vain when it comes to certain things. If I had my body back, I wouldn't worry about how my hair looked._

_Recently I realized that Nii-san is a lot less affectionate with me than he used to be. Is it because we've grown older, or is it this cold, ugly form I'm trapped inside of?_

_I love to watch him. I miss the touch of his hand on my head. I miss his arm slung over my shoulder. He's growing and changing all the time, and I'm staying the same. But the way I feel for him is changing, too. If he knew, I'm sure he wouldn't – _

Ed paused, trembling slightly as he lowered the journal to his lap and then let it fall from his fingers. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. So this was what Winry had meant. In the end, he'd corrupted the brother he'd sworn to protect. First he'd taken Al's body from him, and now, by means of this as yet unspoken, as yet unfulfilled sin, he'd taken his soul.

Glancing down, he noticed that the book had fallen open to a place where the spine seemed creased, as if someone had spent a lot of time with it opened to that page. It was dated months earlier, marked down that it had been written during Ed's tour of duty in Ishbal. Unable to stop himself, he picked it up and read, this time carefully and skipping nothing:

_I know the way I've come to feel about Nii-san isn't normal. I suspected it for a long time, and the research I was able to do in the library at Central confirmed it. However much I repeat this fact, I can't bring myself to feel shame over it, or experience regret. If Nii-san somehow knew, that would be different. I would feel guilty for hurting him. But as long as it's only me who knows, I can continue to move forward as if nothing's different, while keeping this secret as a treasure hidden inside the self that no one sees. After all, I'm not exactly normal to begin within. And God knows I've got lots of space inside for hiding secrets. It's painful, but it's sweet, too. For the first time since I took this form, I've felt truly alive. Holding Nii-san to me, I could forget I was made of dead metal. I could forget everything. _

Ed wanted to weep, but the tears wouldn't come. Through the thin curtains which hung lifeless in the absence of a breeze, the infernal light of Hell's Gate pulsed like a living heart.


End file.
